Anamneses
by xenascully
Summary: Something happened to McGee...the team has to figure it out before it's too late to help him... Hurt/comfort; Family/friendship est tiva; mcabby
1. Chapter 1

**Anamneses**

Rated M for violence (yeah the most extreme), sexual situations, etc...(not giving it all away in here-so if you can't or shouldn't handle it, please do not read)

Summary: Something happened to McGee when he went to a gaming convention...the team has to figure it out before it's too late... (Hurt/comfort; Family/friendship)

* * *

Tony flicked on the light next to his bed when his cell rang. He looked with heavy lidded eyes at the caller ID, then accepted the call. "Probie, it's four in the morning, not to mention Saturday. This better be good."

_"Tony..." _McGee sounded panicked and out of breath as his voice cracked. Tony sat up a little.

"You okay, McGee?"

_"I- I don't know,"_ he replied. Then there was silence. He could hear his shaky breath through the phone.

"Where are you?" Tony asked as he swung his legs off the side of the bed and rubbed his eyes, trying to make himself wake up.

_"Not sure...think I'm in a motel..."_

"How can you not know where you are? Have you been drinking?"

_"I don't think so."_

"Okay...okay let's see," Tony tried to remember what Tim had told him the previous day at work. "You said you were going to some gaming convention," he said.

_"Yeah. In Buffalo. Am I in Buffalo?"_

"You tell me," Tony said with a furrowed brow. "You saying you don't remember anything?"

_"I- guess I remember driving up here...sort of."_

"Can you look out the window and maybe see what the name of the motel is?" he asked, and heard Tim move around on the other line.

_"Ow!" _

"What is it?" Tony asked.

_"Nothing...head hurts."_

"Think you got hit?"

_ "Not sure...okay I'm lookin' out the the window. I'm at The Millennium. This is where the gaming convention was supposed to be."_

"Okay, so you're in Buffalo at The Millennium. Did you take your car?"

_"Pretty sure I rented...uh..." _McGee's panic reignited suddenly. _"Tony...there's blood..."_

"Where? You hurt?"

_ "I d- I dunno... I don't know..." _

"Where's the blood, Tim?"

_"On the bed...it's all over the bed."_

"Any on you? You should call an ambulance," Tony stood and went to throw on some clothes.

_"No...no...I gotta go,"_ he said, out of breath.

"Wait, McGee. I'm gonna come up there and get you, okay? Gonna call Gibbs-"

_"No! Don't call Gibbs!"_

"Why not, Probie? He can help."

_"I have no idea what happened here. Until I do, I don't want him involved, okay? Please..." _

"Okay, okay. I'm gonna try and catch a flight up there as soon as I can, okay? Just...don't go anywhere."

_"I don't know if this is my blood..."_ his voice cracked. _"Oh god...what if I hurt someone?"_ Tony wasn't sure how to respond.

"I doubt that happened...anyone else in there with you?"

_"No..."_

"What room are you in?"

_"Uh...421...I don't feel so good..."_

"Call 911, McGee," Tony started to panic and his hand went to the top of his head.

"What is wrong with him?" Ziva said as she sat up in the bed.

_"I'm cold..."_ Tim shivered on the other line. _"Gotta go get warm..." _the call suddenly ended.

"McGee's in trouble," Tony explained to her. "I gotta go get him."

"I will go with you."

"No, Zi. I need you to call Abby in the morning and be at NCIS."

"Why?"

"We might be working a crime scene..."

* * *

**Okay—typical length for one of my openers. More to come soon! As in like today ;) Let me know what u think!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: For those of you who haven't heard the run-down about my "thwoop scenes", the asterisked, italicized, asterisked lines, depict the black and white still shots like we see on the actual show. I didn't do them in my last fic...actually I don't remember how long it's been since I used them, but it seems fitting for this one, so I'm doin' it! **

* * *

_***The fear and confusion in Tony's eyes reflected his boss's fear...an answer he could not give yet...***_

Tim was confused. Nothing seemed to make sense in this moment. All he knew was that he was freezing, and he needed to get warm. He looked at the bed and dismissed that possibility. There was blood on the sheets and he didn't want to go near it. He opted instead for the shower.

He turned on the hot water and flipped the handle for the shower, then stripped out of his clothes, realizing then that they were bloody. McGee tossed them into the trashcan and stepped shakily into the tub. The water was too hot, but somehow it brought him a certain level of comfort.

Tim grabbed for the little wrapped soap and shakily tore open the paper. But amidst his shaking hands, the soap dropped into the tub. As he bent over to get it, he grimaced...he hurt. His whole body hurt, and he didn't know why.

He watched as the water circled the drain; splashes of red joined the circling. Feeling around his body, he could find no open wounds, so he dismissed it as being whatever had soaked into his clothing. _"What happened...?" _he thought. _"Was someone here? Did I shoot someone?" _

McGee began to scrub himself with the little bar of cheap, complimentary soap. It wasn't until he went to wash his hair, that he realized the sharp pain on the top of his head. He pulled his fingers away and in front of him. Blood...so _that's_ where it came from.

Quickly, he rinsed himself off and turned off the water. After toweling himself off, he dug into his overnight bag for fresh clothes. He picked up his phone and dialed Tony as he slipped his clothes on.

_"McGee, you okay?" _Tony asked as he picked up.

"Think I hit my head on something," he told him. "Think it's where all this blood came from."

_"Well, that'd explain why you don't remember," _Tony replied.

"I hate to have you come all the way up here just 'cause I shouldn't be driving."

_"It's okay. I owe you anyway. You gonna get to a hospital?"_

"Probably should. I'm gonna call once I get off the phone with you."

_"Well then get off the phone, Probie. I'm at the airport. Flight leaves in twenty minutes. I'll find you."_

"I'm gonna leave the rental keys at the front desk. I'll let them know you'll be here to pick it up."

* * *

An hour and a half later, Tony pulled up in front of The Millennium and paid his cab fare. He walked straight over to the office with an evidence kit in tow, and pulled out his ID. "I'm here to pick up rental car keys for Timothy McGee," he said.

"Oh, right. Agent DiNozzo?" the curly red-headed girl said as she opened a drawer and pulled out the key.

"That's me," he thought for a moment. "Think he might've left his bag in the room. Any way I can get in there?"

"Technically, his check-out time isn't up yet, even though he turned in his key. So the cleaning crew hasn't been up there yet. Is he sick? He seemed a little paler then usual..."

"What do you mean by that? You've seen him before?" Tony furrowed his brow.

"Yeah, he was at the convention yesterday. I was working the bar."

"So he was drinking?"

"Not a whole lot..."

"Wouldn't take a whole lot to get him sloshed," he smirked.

"Gosh I don't wanna get him in any trouble!"

"He's not in trouble, ma'am. But he got hurt somehow. Might've hit his head. Did you see him leave with anyone?" The woman seemed to think it over for a few moments.

"Ya know, I'm not really sure. There was a ton of people there." Tony pulled out a card.

"Could you give me a call if anything comes to mind?"

"Sure," she smiled and handed him the key card to the room.

"Thanks," he grinned and turned to make his way out of the office.

* * *

"What could've happened, Ziva?" Abby asked worriedly as she paced the lab.

"I am not sure. But Tony should be there by now. Everything will be okay."

"You don't know that!" Abby stopped in front of her. "He got hurt...I should've gone with him," she resumed her pacing.

"Were you supposed to?" Ziva asked with a furrowed brow.

"No...not really. Well, he asked me, but there was a concert last night that I got invited to by some friends and I couldn't back out of it. In reality, he should've gone with me. Instead, he'd bought tickets and made plans without even letting me know he intended on inviting me." She stopped again, "Oh man...how can I be mad at him when he's hurt?! It's not his fault...but then again, if he'd gone with me, this wouldn't have happened..."

Ziva stood and stopped her by putting her hands on Abby's shoulders. "Do not blame yourself _or_ McGee, Abby," she told her. "Wait for Tony to call, before jumping to conclusions." Abby's face started to relax a little, and then her phone rang.

Leaping for it, she answered and hit the speakerphone button, "Tony! How's Timmy?"

_"I haven't gotten to the hospital yet, Abs," _he told her, _"I'm in his hotel room. Been looking through his trash, and there's an empty bottle of vodka in there. I'm thinkin' he got a little wasted and fell and hit his head. But I haven't found any indication of where that might've been."_

"Do you see blood anywhere?" Abby asked.

_"Plenty."_

"Plenty? Like a ton?" Abby sounded panicked.

_"Not a ton, Abs. There's blood on the bed."_

"Well, what about his clothes?"

_"He must've taken his bag with him. Look, I'm gonna take pictures and dust for prints; bag the sheets and bring them back with me. The blood is human...that's all I know so far."_

"You think it could belong to someone else?" Ziva asked.

_"Not sure. But he doesn't remember anything that happened, so I gotta play it safe. Do me a favor and check his phone records; see if any new numbers show up from last night."_

"Already looked," Abby told him. "And I tried to call him, but his phone is turned off."

_"Battery probably died. I'll finish up here and go pick him up."_

"Call me and let me know he's okay, please?"

_"Yeah, Abby," _he said, and ended the call.

* * *

"Timothy McGee," Tony said as he approached the E.R desk. The nurse typed into her computer then looked up at him.

"Mr. McGee is in room eight. He's about to be discharged if you wanna go in."

"Thanks," he said as he made his way down the hall. He saw Tim sitting on he end of the bed holding a cold compress on top of his head. Out of courtesy, he knocked lightly on the frame before heading in. Tim looked up at him and stood.

"Hey," he gave a small smile of relief, followed by nervous embarrassment. "Sorry about this, Tony."

"It's okay," he stepped in a few feet and stood against the wall. "What the doc say?"

"Mild concussion with a minor laceration. Head wounds bleed a lot, even if they're not serious. I'm really sorry I made you come all the way here..."

"Hey, I said it was okay. You can't drive home with a concussion. I'm glad you called me."

"The least I can do is pay you back for the plane ticket," he said.

"No...but you can pay me back for yours," he smirked. Tim looked at him in question. "There's no way I'm driving back to D.C, Probie. You might've been willing to drive seven hours for a gaming convention you may ultimately never remember, but we're flying back."

"I gotta return the car, Tony."

"Already talked to the company and they said it's only a hundred bucks to drop it off at their place here in town. A price I was willing to pay to shave six hours off the trip." Tim was about to reply, but the doctor returned to the room.

"Mr. McGee, I strongly suggest you visit your primary physician when you get home, since you refused any examination other then for your head," he said as he handed some papers to him.

"I don't have any other wounds, as I told you, Doctor. Am I free to go?" The doctor nodded. Tony was a bit surprised at the stubbornness in Tim's voice, but followed him as he exited the room. "When's the flight leave?" he asked.

"Not for another hour. Didn't think you'd be done this fast. You hungry?"

"Not at all," he said. "So where's the rental company that's here in town?"

"As luck would have it, at the airport," he smirked as he held the front exit door open for him.

* * *

Tony pulled out a magazine from the chair in front of him and lazily flipped through the pages. "Remember anything yet?" he quietly asked the restless agent beside him.

"For the hundredth time, no," he said with a hint of aggravation. Then he turned to look at him, "Why? Did you find something in my room?"

"Just an empty bottle of vodka and no glass," he smirked. Tim squinted.

"That couldn't have been mine," he argued. "I don't drink straight vodka."

"Well, I bagged it. So once we get back, we'll check it for prints," he said without looking up from the magazine. "Oh, look!" he pointed at an article, "Did you know they're opening a Harry Potter world in Universal Orlando?"

"Yes, and uh...what the hell do you mean, you bagged it? Did you process my room?" he seemed appalled. Tony looked over at him.

"Did you think I wouldn't? And keep your voice down," he said as he looked around the plane.

"I just-" he lowered his voice, "I just think if you run this stuff through the system, and it ends up that I did something stupid like getting really drunk and hitting my head in the shower or something, someone's gonna find out and I'll never live it down."

"Relax. If that's the case, Abby and I will make sure no one finds out."

"Abby knows about this?!"

"Sshh...geez, Probie. For someone so concerned about secrecy, you're sure not helping your case...oh...ah crap," Tony put the magazine down and pulled out his phone.

"What?"

"I was supposed to call Abby and let her know you're okay."

"You're not gonna get a signal up here," he said.

"Yeah...but you know Abby will flip out if I don't call her. Watch out," he said as he stood. Tim stood and moved out into the aisle to let Tony out. And as he walked toward the stewardess to ask to use the phone, Tim felt a sudden wave of nausea and rushed to the bathroom. Tony only saw him enter the tiny restroom from the corner of his eye as he dialed Abby's number into the plane's phone.

_"Abby Sciuto,"_ he heard her say on the other line.

"Hey, Abs."

_"Tony, what the hell? I've been worried sick! Is he okay?"_

"He has a mild concussion. The blood was from a minor laceration on his head. Nothing to be worried about," he said, then heard the unmistakable sound of vomiting coming from the restroom.

_"Well can I talk to him?"_

"He's...in the bathroom right now. Can't really chit chat, Abby. This is an emergency line," he said as the stewardess seemed to be getting impatient.

_"You bring him here when you get back."_

"Kay. See ya soon," he sat and hung up the phone. Tony briefly stopped in front of the restroom door and listened. Apparently Tim had finished vomiting. He knocked lightly on the door, "You okay, McGee?"

"Be out in a sec," he said, and Tony heard the water come on. He made his way back to his seat and watched for the door to open before grabbing the magazine again. Tim sat down with a plop and laid back in the seat, closing his eyes. Tony glanced at him for just a moment, and decided against repeatedly asking him if he was, indeed, okay. He looked back down at the magazine.

Only moments later, a stewardess wheeled a cart up the aisle. "Would you like anything to drink?" she asked them. Tony and Tim both looked at her.

"I'll just take a water," Tony replied. And when McGee seemed to be lost, Tony ordered for him, "He'll take a water too, thanks." The stewardess smiled and poured them each a cup of water and handed it to them.

"Thanks," McGee said quietly as he took his. Tony watched him as he stared at the back of the seat in front of him. His eyes darted around as if he were reading something there.

"You're not gonna throw up again, are ya?" he backed away a bit.

"I think I remember something," he replied, ignoring Tony's question.

"What's that?"

"I remember..."

_-He was sitting at a bar, being served a drink by a red-headed woman...the same one he'd seen at the front desk at the hotel...-_

"I was at a bar..."

"Yeah, I heard," Tony said. Tim shot a look at him. "Lady at the front desk said she saw you there." McGee's face relaxed a bit.

"Guess I really did get drunk and hit my head."

"You don't happen to remember leaving with anyone, do you?" he asked. Tim looked back in front of him and tried to recall. "You have your gun with you?"

"It's in my bag," he said quietly. Then his brow furrowed. "Why was I at the bar?"

"Maybe you were with someone? Did you meet a hot chick at the gaming convention, Probster?" he smirked. Tim blinked.

"I...think I did," he said, a bit surprised as he looked at Tony. "Actually, I had an extra ticket. I think I might've given it to her..."

_-He was in the lobby of the hotel, waiting to get into the convention at the door. There was a woman holding up the line as she frantically searched through her purse._

"_I have a ticket, I swear!" she said. "I just can't find it..."_

_ "Sorry, ma'am, but you can't get in without one. You'll have to go to the front desk to purchase another one."_

_ "But I already have one...I don't have enough to get another!"_

"_Hey," Tim said and the woman looked at him, "I've got an extra one. Here," he handed it to her, "Take it."_

"_Oh...I couldn't possibly."_

"_No, seriously. It's okay. I don't need it." She seemed a bit hesitant, but then she smiled and took it from him._

"_Thanks. I'm Susan," she held her hand out. He shook it._

"_Tim. Nice to meet you."-_

"Ever heroic, Timothy McGee," Tony smirked. "It's a shame you don't remember the rest of the night. I'm sure she took you back to her room."

"I doubt it," he shrugged.

"Well obviously you went to get a drink with her after the convention," he assumed. Tim thought...

_-He managed to catch sight of her again right as he was leaving. She was hugging a man, obviously her boyfriend. He sighed...he'd wished Abby would've accepted the ticket and come with him. It would've been a lot more fun... As he left the convention, he noticed a bar to the right, and walked up to the red-headed bartender, who wasn't completely displeasing to the eye...-_

"I see," Tony seemed to understand now. "Well, that explains why you decided to get shit-faced," he said and turned back to his magazine.

"I guess so...I dunno. Doesn't really seem like something I'd do. And I wasn't really upset about it. Just another typical day for me," he leaned back in his chair again.

"That's really sad, McGee," he said as he looked over at him once more. It might have sounded like he was picking at him, but he was genuinely pitying the guy. "We all have our bad days. Some day we'll look back on all this and laugh," he grinned.

"You're probably right," he said as he closed his eyes. He was really tired. "Thanks again, for helping me out."

"No problem."

"I owe you."

"I know," he flipped the page as his friend drifted off to sleep. Then his gaze fell out the window of the plane as he wondered...

* * *

Ziva picked up her phone and glanced at the caller ID as it rang. She was slightly surprised that it wasn't Tony. "David," she answered.

_"Ziva," _Gibbs said on the other line, _"Any idea why DiNozzo and McGee aren't answering their phones?"_

"Uh..." she panicked.

_"We've got a case and I need you all."_

"Are you here?"

_"Are you in the building?" _a hint of surprise was in his voice.

"I am in the lab with Abby." There was silence on the other line.

_"What are you doin' here?" _Ziva was hesitant to answer, so Abby grabbed the phone.

"Gibbs, Tony went to New York to pick up McGee," she told him. "Something happened to him while he was up there and he called Tony to come get him."

"Abby!" Ziva angrily whispered.

_"What do ya mean, 'something happened to him'?"_

"Not sure yet. But he has a concussion. They're on their way back. Should be here soon, actually," she said. Then the call was abruptly ended. "Hm," she said and looked at Ziva. Ziva sighed as she took her phone back.

* * *

Gibbs ended the call when he heard the elevator ding, and made his way toward it as it opened.

"Just lemme grab something from my desk," he heard Tony say as he came out of the elevator, then spotted Gibbs, and his face was suddenly washed with surprise. "Boss!"

Gibbs said nothing, but motioned for him to return with him to the elevator. Reluctantly, he followed. McGee swallowed, straightening up at the unexpected arrival of his boss, and shared a quick glance with Tony as the doors shut the three of them in. Gibbs hit the autopsy floor button and waited for the shaft to move before hitting the emergency switch and turning to DiNozzo.

"Something you wanna tell me about?" he asked calmly.

"Let- let me...let me out of here," they both turned to look at McGee, who's features had suddenly paled; his eyes showed signs of distress and panic.

"It's okay, McGee," Tony said.

"No...I need you...to turn it back on..." his breath sounded labored. Tony moved to stand in front of him and Gibbs squinted, unsure why the agent was reacting this way.

"We're just talkin', Probie-"

"No!" Tim yelled and pushed Tony away from him. "Let me out of here!" Gibbs put a firm hand on the agent's shoulder.

"McGee!" he warned. "Calm down!"

"Don't touch me!" he yelled and backed away, hitting the corner of the room, "Please-" he choked, "Please leave me alone!" he began to slide down the wall.

Panicked, Tony reached out and flipped the emergency switch to start the elevator again and looked back down at the agent whose arms covered his face as he sat in the corner...sobbing...

Gibbs looked at Tony, who shared the expression of confusion and fear. "What the hell happened to him?" he asked his senior agent.

_***The confusion and fear in Tony's eyes gave Gibbs no indication of an answer...and it terrified him...***_


	3. Chapter 3

Once they reached autopsy's floor, Tony switched the elevator button that would hold the doors open, and went to fetch Ducky. Gibbs knelt down in front of McGee, who was now still and silent in the corner.

"Tim?" he said softly. Slowly, McGee lifted his head and looked around. He seemed confused.

"Boss? H-how did I end up on the floor?" Gibbs raised his brows.

"You don't remember?" McGee shook his head. Gibbs stood and held a hand out to help him up, which Tim hesitantly took, and stood as well. "You started to have some kinda panic attack," he told him. "What happened in New York?" Tim shook his head.

"Still trying to figure that out, Boss," he explained with a furrowed brow. Tony returned with Ducky.

"Are you alright, Timothy?" he asked as he approached him. Tim took a hesitant step back and hit the wall. Ducky straightened a bit and took a cautious step back. "Perhaps we should take this into _my_ office," he said to Gibbs. They all piled out of the elevator and turned to McGee, who seemed relieved to be out of there. "Now, as I was saying, how are you feeling?" he asked again as they walked into autopsy.

"Have a headache," he said, suddenly feeling the fatigue catch up to him.

"Yes, Anthony tells me you have a concussion. And that you don't recall how you received it." Tim glanced around the room, noting that Gibbs and Tony seemed worried as they stood a good distance from him. He turned back to Ducky.

"Well," he started, "The only thing we can seem to figure at the moment is that I was apparently drinking. And obviously I hit my head on something."

"Perhaps I can take a look?" he asked, stepping cautiously toward him, noticing when the agent began to tense up. "Do you trust me?" he asked. Tim flinched and blinked a few times.

"'Course, Ducky," he replied.

"Perhaps you should lie down," he suggested. McGee looked behind him at the empty cold table and hopped onto hit, maneuvering himself to lie on his back. "And could you point out where the laceration is?" he asked, mostly to assure the man where he intended to examine.

"Boss," Tony said quietly. "I've gotta bring this stuff to Abby." Gibbs noticed for the first time, the evidence kit in his hand. He quietly followed him out of autopsy.

"Tell me what you know," he demanded.

"He called me at four this morning. Said he didn't know where he was or what happened. He was confused...which is why he called _me_, I'm guessing...anyway, I told him to get to a hospital and took the first flight I could to go up there. Checked out his room before picking him up. There was blood in the bed. Mostly dry. Brought the sheets back with me," he motioned to the kit. "Nothing else in the room. Except an empty bottle of cheap vodka in the trash. I bagged that too."

"No one else in the room?" Tony shook his head. "You talk to anyone?"

"Receptionist said she saw him last night at the convention. Didn't recall if he'd left with anyone. But McGee remembered giving an extra ticket to a woman...said she was with some other guy by the end of the evening. Doesn't remember anything past having a drink at the bar."

"Gotta be an answer in between that drink, and the empty bottle you found in his room," he said. "Go on," he told him, motioning to the elevator as he went back into autopsy.

* * *

"Abby, I need you to not freak out when you look at the sheets," Tony said as he handed her the evidence. "He had a mild laceration on his head that bled heavily, but he's been seen by a doctor and he's fine, okay?"

"Geez, Tony, I'm a forensic scientist," she defended. "I don't get squeamish around blood."

"I know you don't. But you do tend to worry when it comes to blood that came from your friends." He set the box down on the table. "Two things; blood on the sheets, and an empty liquor bottle. Call me as soon as find anything," he told her, and glanced at Ziva before heading out.

Ziva followed him and got in the elevator with him. "Is he really okay?" she asked with a hint of disbelief.

"No," he said once the doors closed. She furrowed a brow.

"What do you mean?"

"He wigged out when we did this," he flipped the emergency switch, bringing the elevator to a halt.

"When you...stopped the elevator? Like Gibbs does pretty much regularly?"

"Yeah. Exactly, Zi. That doesn't make sense." She thought for a moment then turned the elevator back on.

"Were there elevators in the hotel?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said passively. Then looked down in thought. "There was one shut down for maintenance," he picked up his cell.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I should've checked that elevator," he said as the doors opened and he put the phone to his ear. "Hi, Vanessa, this is Agent DiNozzo. I was there earlier this morning...yeah. Could you tell me why there's an elevator out of order in the building?"

* * *

"I believe the E.R doctor may have made an error in Timothy's diagnosis," Ducky said as he stepped out of autopsy with Gibbs. McGee had fallen asleep on the cold table. "I don't believe his memory loss is solely due to a concussion. I think his mind is protecting itself."

"What do ya mean?"

"Something happened to him, Jethro," he said quietly. "Something he does not want to remember. And judging by his reaction in the elevator, I think we need to figure out what it was, before it manifests itself in a much more dangerous way." Gibbs looked at Ducky for another moment, as if he could somehow answer the riddle. "I assume you've given your other case to another team." Gibbs nodded. "Good. Perhaps you should go see Abigail. I'll keep an eye on McGee."

* * *

Gibbs walked into the lab with a Caf-Pow in one hand, and coffee in the other. "Hey, Gibbs," Abby said without looking away from her computer. He set the drink down in front of her. "I don't have much for you yet," her voice wasn't as enthusiastic as normal, but she was trying to play it cool. "I lifted a few prints from the bottle, but haven't found a match yet. And the blood on the sheets definitely belongs to Timmy..." her gaze seemed to shift a bit.

"You okay, Abs?" he asked.

"There's way too much blood for it to have come from just his head," she replied. "And why would it be on the sheet instead of a pillowcase?"

"Maybe he didn't sleep on a pillow?"

"McGee sleeps with a pillow, Gibbs," she turned to him. "Where is he? Why can't I see him?"

"You can," he said. "But he's sleeping. And right now, he needs you to figure out what happened to him." Her expression didn't change. It was steady; tired and worried...and uncertain. She turned back to her computer.

"What I know for sure, is that Tim didn't have anything to do with that vodka. None of the prints were his. And no DNA indicating anyone drank out of it. I'm running a tox screen on the blood from the sheets, but I need a sample from McGee to run now...'cause I don't know how long that blood was there...I mean, it's mostly dry, which means he could've bled before he went to the convention...or after he went to his room and went to sleep...I just don't know..." The computer beeped as well as the machine behind them.

She typed on the keyboard to bring up a match. "Two of the prints match one person," she clicked. "Bradley Deberoh, lives in NYC. Civilian. Single, no kids." She spun around to attend to the machine as Gibbs squinted at the picture on the screen. "Blood alcohol level way under the legal limit," she said. "No..." he heard her say and turned around. "No, this...this can't be, Gibbs," she looked up at him with glassy red eyes.

"What is it," he approached her and looked down at the paper in her hands.

"There are traces of Rohypnol in his blood..." Gibbs clenched his jaw. "Gibbs...the blood on the sheets..."

"You got DiNozzo's photos uploaded?"

"Yeah," she went to the computer and pulled up the pictures and Gibbs stood in front of the big screen. "There's the bed," she said. He squinted at the picture, his stomach churning at the sight.

"You find anything besides blood on those sheets?" he sounded angry now.

"No. And I already looked through his overnight bag. But whatever he wore last night is gone. Like he threw it away." Gibbs' cell rang.

"What?" he yelled as he answered.

_"Uh...Boss, I just got off the phone with the hotel security in Buffalo. They said one of the elevators was shut down because someone discovered blood in it this morning. They're sending the report and pictures to us right now. Buffalo PD is working the case right now."_

"You call them back and tell them to pick up Bradley Deberoh. His prints were on the bottle. And tell them to bring the son of a bitch HERE." He ended the call.

* * *

By the time Gibbs got up to the bullpen, Ziva and Tony were viewing the hotel elevator picks on the big screen. "What do we got?" he asked.

"Think we found where McGee hit his head," Tony told him, changing to a close-up shot of the handrail in the elevator. There was a small amount of blood and hair on the sharp top of its ledge. "And in the corner...a few drops of blood on the floor," his eyes grew distant as he recalled Tim's outburst earlier. Gibbs could read the expression on his senior agent's face.

"Any word on Deberoh?" he asked.

"No...uh..." he shook his head as if trying to shake something from his concentration. "Cleaning staff found bloody clothes in a dumpster outside the hotel. Said they'd send them here with Deberoh once they pick him up. They're gonna take pictures and send it to my email first." His eyes grew distant again, and he barely registered when Ziva's phone rang. She glanced at Gibbs before answering.

"David," she said. After a moment of listening, "Of course, Ducky, I will be right down," she hung up and glanced at Gibbs. "Ducky is on his way up. He wants me to come sit with McGee, even though he is asleep right now." Gibbs nodded and turned back to Tony as she left.

"What do you think, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked after a few moments. Tony swallowed.

"You don't even wanna know..." he turned off the screen and went to his desk.

"Abby tell you what she found in his blood?" Tony nodded silently, clenching his jaw as he sat.

"Got security footage of the convention being sent as we speak," he added. Ducky entered the bullpen then and went to stand between both men.

"I gave him a mild sedative," he began. "He's sleeping restfully, I can only hope."

"You come all the way up here to tell me that?" Gibbs asked.

"No. I took the opportunity to take a closer look at him. What I can see of his skin seems to have been scalded and scrubbed... It seems he showered after whatever happened. Desperate to get something off of him. I can only assume at this point, Jethro, but the only evidence we have at this time seems to point in one direction..."

"Don't gotta say it, Duck," Gibbs said. "I think we all have the same feeling. But we can't make that assumption yet..." A beep sounded from Tony's computer, causing them to look over in his direction as he sat up straight to click open his email.

Gibbs watched all color leave the agent's face and quickly made his way over to the desk to look at what he'd seen. Pictures... two of them. Both of a tan-colored pair of pants. The front and then the back...blood between the back pockets and down...

Tony pushed violently away from his desk and stood, heading for the bathroom, and Ducky went to Gibbs' side to view the photos as well. "Oh my," he said. "Unfortunately, it seems that our feelings may have been accurate after all..." Gibbs stepped away and looked at his friend.

"Go back downstairs and tell Ziva I need her up here. Security footage is attached to that email, and I need her to go over it."

* * *

Tony splashed cold water on his face over the sink. He was trying desperately to fend off a wave of nausea, but as much as tried, it came anyway.

Gibbs walked in just as his agent began heaving into the sink. He cringed a bit at the clear liquid that fell into the basin and washed away with the running water. But he remained silent and stood against the wall, allowing Tony some space as he waited for the heaving to end.

"Can't believe this..." Tony said with a broken voice. Gibbs squinted as Tony's head settled on the edge of the counter as he breathed.

"Might not be what it looks like," he replied, and Tony stood and turned to look at him.

"Really?" he asked with a bit of anger evident on his face, "'Cause I thought you were there in the elevator and saw the way he acted, too," he accused. Gibbs remained silent. "I've worked with victims like this before...so have you. You know exactly what that looked like," he turned back to the sink and splashed more water on his face, taking some of it into his mouth and spitting. "I should've stayed...found this son of a bitch," he turned off the water and grabbed for a paper towel.

"There's no way to be sure who we're even lookin' for yet," Gibbs said.

"Well if I'd known, I would've checked out that elevator and found the fuck out," he said angrily.

"You brought McGee home," Gibbs stepped closer to him, with an equal amount of anger in his voice, "He called you because he needed you...trusted you. And you brought him home. That's what you were supposed to do, DiNozzo. You couldn't have stopped it from happening. No one foresaw this. So let Buff PD run the scene and do their jobs. 'Cause right now, what Tim needs are his friends."

Tony looked at him as he considered his words. "I don't know what to do," he said quietly.

"You just be there to listen," he said simply. "We don't know what happened...and until we find the SOB who did this, McGee is the only one who does."

He watched his boss turn and leave the bathroom as he stood there against the sink counter. He was right...they didn't know anything. But everything pointed to a sick and devastating possibility...


	4. Chapter 4

**Hollaaaa to my reviewers who keep me going! : ncischick09, Cutezipie, siltrana, smartkid37, gsr4ever, betherick1985, azilee, ickleails, cheether and jgomez921. Thanks so much to all of you :)**

* * *

_Pain...everything hurt. Nothing made sense. He opened his eyes, but he was pressed up against a wall. A corner. He couldn't move...and he couldn't stop the pain..._

_ He felt something cold in each of his hands...something he was holding onto for dear life. He managed to look down and see he was gripping a handrail. Pain... he heard someone behind him...but he couldn't turn to see...oh god...the pain..._

_ "McGee..." he heard a voice...a woman's voice...familiar...pulling him from the dark._

"McGee..." he heard it again and his eyes cracked open. It was bright, and he was thankful...thankful to be out of the dark. "McGee, are you okay?" he turned to see Ziva standing beside him, and realized where he was.

"Ziva?"

"You were having a nightmare, I think," she told him, and he felt her hand on his arm.

"I fell asleep?" it was more of a statement then a question. He sat up and swung his legs off the table just as Ducky came into the room.

"Ziva," Ducky said, "Gibbs needs you to go upstairs and look over the security footage from the hotel." Ziva turned to McGee for a moment before leaving. Ducky cautiously approached Tim.

"I didn't expect you'd be up so soon," he told him. "Are you feeling any pain?"

"No," he lied as he shook his head. His eyes darted uncomfortably around the room.

"Are you...remembering anything?" Ducky suspected. He didn't answer. He looked down at his hands in his lap. "In due time, young Timothy," Ducky said as he turned to walk toward his desk. "I suppose an examination would be out of the question?"

"I don't have any other wounds, Ducky," he said quietly.

"Perhaps none that we can see," he said as he sat and turned his chair to face him. "I assume you scrubbed down at the hotel." Tim furrowed a brow at him.

"I took a hot shower," he confessed. "That's why I know I don't have any other open wounds."

"You're certain of that?" he asked.

"Well I didn't exactly have a magnifying glass, but I didn't feel anything out of the ordinary in the shower," his voice seemed a bit frustrated. Before Ducky could respond to the statement, the doors hissed open and Tony walked in. He glanced at the agent before looking to Timothy, and noticing the sudden look of calm that washed over him once he saw his teammate.

"Hey," Tony said to Tim before glancing to Ducky.

"I wanna go home," McGee said and Tony looked back over at him. "Can you take me?"

"You sure?" Tony asked as he stepped a little closer.

"No," he confessed. "But I don't really feel like being down here anymore...no offense, Ducky."

"None taken," he said. "It's probably a good sign to not want to be lying on a cold table in here."

"Would you be up to stopping in to see Abby?" Tony asked. "She wants to make sure you're okay. And I'm pretty sure if I take you home without letting her see you, she'll kill me and cover up all the evidence..." he smirked.

"You're probably right," Tim smirked as he hopped down from the table. Tony turned to head out, glancing once more at the worried M.E as Tim followed him out. He stopped in front of the elevator then turned to Tim.

"Wanna take the stairs?" he asked. McGee thought for a moment, then almost unrecognizably shook his head. Tony looked at him in question.

"I need to know what happened," he explained quietly. "If I wigged out in there, then maybe I was remembering something."

"We got some photos of one of the elevators at the hotel," Tony told him. "I think that's where you hit your head." Tim nodded and reached past him to hit the elevator button. When the doors opened, Tony stepped in first and waited patiently for Tim, who was a bit hesitant as he stepped in after him. "You don't have to do this right now, Probie."

"I think I do," he retorted as the doors closed behind him.

"Okay...well, I'm right here with you," he said in a calm voice as his partner looked at him. "Whatever you need...I'm here." He watched Tony swallow, then turned to press the button to take them to Abby's lab. "You were fine until we flipped the emergency switch," he told him. McGee immediately reached over and flipped it. Tony tensed as he watched for Tim's reaction.

McGee was calm for the moment. But he seemed to be waiting for something to happen, just the same as Tony. "Doin' okay?" Tony asked, hesitantly.

"Think so," he replied, and began to move away from the door, eying the handrail he now remembered clearly from his dream. As he approached the rail, he reached out to grab onto it with one hand. Tony watched him as his stance suddenly wavered a bit, and he moved to see his face. Tim's eyes were suddenly distant...

"_Brad, we should wait until we're in his room," Tim heard a voice as the elevator came to a halt, throwing him a bit off balance as he gripped the rail. He couldn't see straight...couldn't think..._

"_No way," the other voice said, "This'll be much more fun," he laughed. What did that mean? What's happening? He felt rough hands shove him into the corner, twisting him around so his face was against the wall._

"_What are you doing?" Tim asked._

"_Relax," the voice said. "You won't remember it anyway." He felt a knife at his back and started to panic...but he couldn't move. 'What's wrong with me?' he asked himself. He felt the knife leave his back and a tugging at his belt...they were cutting his belt off...why were they doing that?_

"_Please..." Tim begged, "Just let me out of here..."_

"_No way," the voice said, and he felt his pants being tugged down._

"_What are you doing?" he panicked, "Why are you doing this?" he struggled to move, but his body wouldn't cooperate. He could hear something...a wrapper being opened..._

"_Can never be too sure," the voice said, "Always gotta use protection..." then there were hands on him again...--_

"No...no...I don't wanna remember anymore..." McGee's voice cracked as he panicked, and Tony jumped from his side and flipped the emergency switch again, quickly going back to his friend who was now kneeling on the floor.

"McGee?" Tony's hand went to his shoulder as he knelt next to him. Tim crushed his forehead against the wall of the elevator as his eyes clamped shut...tears dropping directly from his closed lids to the floor.

"No! No, I don't want to!" he squeaked. "Please make it stop...I don't wanna remember..."

"Tim, it's okay," Tony tried to pull him out of the memory, "You're okay...you're safe."

"Tony...please...make them stop!" he yelped and gagged, vomiting nothing but stomach acid onto the floor beneath him. He didn't know what to do...he reached up to take his hands from the rail Tim had a death-grip on, and suddenly his eyes opened and shot to Tony. Confused and distraught...embarrassed...he pulled his hands from Tony's and hid his face.

"McGee...it's okay now," he told him, desperate for his friend to recover. "You can tell me. It's okay..." But his partner began to shake.

"I can't..." his breath hitched as he desperately fought the tears, "I couldn't stop them..."

_Them?_ Tony thought...oh god. "They drugged you," he told him. "Abby found Rohypnol in your blood." He watched Tim swallow. The elevator doors opened, and Tony looked up to see Gibbs standing there, a bit disturbed by what he saw. Tony held a hand up, signaling for him to wait, and Gibbs flipped the button to hold the doors open without shutting it off, then backed away and walked back into the lab.

"Can you...help me out of here?" Tim asked without taking his hands from his face.

"Sure, buddy," he moved, unsure of how to go about doing it. He gently took one of his arms, and before he could even process what was happening, McGee gripped down on his friend's arm and hid his face in Tony's shoulder.

"I'm sorry..." he sobbed. Tony was frozen for a moment, but his heart sank. His free arm moved up to his friend's shoulder.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, Tim," he sad sadly.

"I didn't even fight them," he said angrily, "I couldn't stop them..."

"It's not your fault," he felt Tim's other hand clutching at the back of his shirt. "We're gonna find them," Tony reassured, "And we're gonna make sure they can never do this to anyone again."

McGee loosened both hands from him and swiped away the tears on his face before looking at Tony again. "I don't remember their faces," he said, then began pushing himself up off the floor.

"We'll find them," Tony said as he stood as well.

"One of their names is Brad, I think," he attempted to straighten himself before he headed out of the elevator.

"Deberoh?" Tony asked. "Sound familiar?" McGee shook his head. "The empty bottle I found has his prints on it." Gibbs stepped out into the hall when he heard them talking.

"Doin' okay, McGee?" he asked, and Tim looked at him, noticing his red eyes, and nodded.

"Just came to see Abby," he said.

"You should go to the hospital. Let them check you out."

"No," he shook his head. "Please don't make me go there, Boss," his eyes pleaded with him. Gibbs understood the discomfort.

"You could be hurt..."

"I'm fine," he said.

"Abby doesn't think all that blood came from just your head," he said. Tim's eyes darted around for a moment.

"Regardless, I'm not bleeding now."

"You should go home and rest."

"I need to be here," he said more loudly. "Please, I need to help...however I can." Gibbs considered his words. "I can sleep on Abby's futon if I'm tired... Please, Boss."

Gibbs swallowed, then gave in and nodded. McGee gave him a small smile before walking past him into the lab. Gibbs met Tony's eyes. "Ziva found something on the tapes," he told him. "Abby will keep an eye on him, Tony," he put a hand on his shoulder. "You did good."

"Doesn't feel like I did," he said as he followed him into the elevator.

"Why didn't you take the stairs?" he asked as he pressed the button.

"He said he wanted to remember...till he started to remember," he looked down where Tim had been kneeling.

"But you helped him through it," he reminded him. Tony didn't seem to accept that. "Most male rape victims never report the incident," he said. Tony closed his eyes as his brow furrowed...that word...no one had spoken it until now.

"He's never gonna be the same, is he?" he swallowed.

"I don't have the answer to that, DiNozzo."

"It was more than one," his voice cracked. Gibbs leaned his head back on the elevator wall.

"I know," he said, and Tony looked at him. "I was listening."

* * *

"Hey, Timmy," Abby turned to face him as he entered the lab. He looked at her with a small smile. He was genuinely happy to see her, but her face spoke a thousand words...he knew that she knew.

"Don't look at me that way, Abs," he said. Her face fell.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You had nothing to do with this."

"I'm sorry I didn't go with you..." her eyes went to the floor. He shook his head and closed the space between them, pulling her into a hug. "I should've gone with you, Timmy," she sniffled.

"This isn't your fault. I shouldn't have been so stubborn. I should've just gone to the concert with you and your friends."

"I would've had a lot more fun if you did...and stop it," she gently pulled away, "This isn't your fault, either." His eyes went to the screen of her computer, and she saw his face go pale. "What is it?" she asked as she looked at the screen. Bradley Deberoh's ID was still up.

"That's one of them..." he said as he subconsciously backed away from the sight. She closed the file and turned to him.

"It's okay," she said as she stepped closer to him. Her hands went to either side of his face. "It's okay, Timmy. We're gonna find him. He can't hurt you anymore," her eyes were glassy as she looked at his. He tried to believe her.

"I'm...really tired," he said.

"Well, come on," she took his hand and lead him to her office, guiding him to sit on the futon. "It's all yours." She moved to turn off the light.

"Wait," he stopped her and she turned to look at him again. "Leave it on...okay?" his face flushed in embarrassment. She gave him a reassuring smile, and left the room. She walked to her computer, peeking back to see him as he laid down on the bed. Once he closed his eyes, she allowed herself to shed the tears she'd been holding back...

* * *

Ziva stood in front of the big screen with the remote in her hand, eagerly awaiting Tony and Gibbs' arrival. Finally, she heard the ding of the elevator and looked back to see them approaching. She noticed their faces...they seemed distracted and upset, and she turned back to the screen.

"What'd ya find?" Gibbs asked as they joined on either side of her.

"Hundreds of some of the strangest people I have ever seen in my life, all gathered together in one place," she began. Gibbs almost smirked. "But I followed McGee as he walked around to various booths. One in particular stuck out," she pressed a button to pause the video and zoom in. McGee stood at the booth, talking to two men who were running it.

"That's Bradley Deberoh," Tony said.

"Who's the other guy?" Gibbs asked. Ziva pressed another button, and the man's ID opened on the screen.

"Jacob Deberoh," she said. "His brother. They apparently reside in the same apartment. I have called NYPD to go by their place and pick them up, but they called me and said they were not there. I also contacted Buffalo PD and told them who to be looking for." Gibbs' desk phone rang and he left her side to answer it.

"Yeah, Gibbs." There was a long moment of silence, and Ziva turned to Tony.

"How is McGee?" she asked quietly. His eyes told her everything she needed to know, causing her gaze to drift to his chest.

"You make sure you have men in that room and do NOT let him out of your sight," they turned to face Gibbs at the angry tone in his voice. "And once he wakes up, you get him here. Hell, you call me, and THEN you get him here," he hung up the phone.

"Boss?" Tony questioned.

"They found both of them," he said. "They were in a wreck. DUI. Bradley was DOA. Jacob is in a coma on a respirator at Mercy Hospital in Buffalo... They're processing the vehicle now. When they call, I want any evidence reports sent to Abby," he said, then walked over to them. "I need coffee...you want any?" he asked them. Tony knew his Boss was fighting an inward battle...for sure now.

"Sure, Boss..." he replied.

"I will go with you," she said as she began to follow him out of the bullpen.

"I don't need help with the coffee, Ziva," he said.

"I know," she said as she entered the elevator with him. "I want to talk to you."

* * *

Ducky sat alone at his desk in autopsy. He thumbed through the pages of a report he'd filed long ago. It had been many years since he'd even seen it, let alone read the words splayed about the pages. But now he felt drawn to them, as if they held answers to questions he hadn't even asked yet.

He was drawn from his thoughts as he heard the doors hiss open behind him, and he shut the file and spun his chair around to see the agent who stood before him. "Hello again, Anthony. Something I can help you with?" Tony put his hands in his pockets.

"I'm not sure...what to say to McGee," he said. "Not sure how to help him."

"It's up to him to ask for the help," he said and stood.

"He did," he told him, and Ducky's brow raised a bit. "In a way..."

"What happened, exactly?" he queried. Tony looked down.

"He's starting to remember. We were in the elevator. It happened in an elevator, Ducky," he looked up at him again.

"Did he say _what_? Was it what we suspected?"

"There were two of them," he barely whispered as he glanced around the room, as if to verify they were alone. "They raped him...in an elevator." Ducky could see the torment in his eyes, though he was trying greatly to keep it at bay.

"Oh my..." Ducky chose to sit back down.

"He asked me to stop them," he continued. "Like I was there...like I could make them stop somehow. What do I say to that?" he laughed through what threatened to be tears and he turned away from the doctor as he felt them begin to spill over. He swiped them away and took a breath to gather back his composure.

"Tony, he knows you weren't there," he said, and Tony slowly turned back to face him. "Perhaps what he meant, was that he wants you to help him _now_. He trusted you enough to call you, of all people he could have called, to go get him. I think it's fairly safe to say that his words, even if it was subconsciously, were a plea for you to help him through this somehow. He needs to talk to someone."

"I'm no where near a professional, Ducky."

"Did you know," he said as he turned back toward his desk and put the folder into a drawer, "That most male rape cases go unreported?" Tony nodded. "Do you know why?"

"Think so."

"Humiliation," he said as he stood from his desk once more. "Men are much less likely to ever discuss being raped. But talking to someone about it, professional or not, as long as the person they choose to discuss it with wouldn't belittle it in any way, or blame him...which I'm positive you would never do...is the one saving grace for the victim." Tony remained silent as he waited for him continue. Ducky walked closer to the agent, "However difficult it may seem for you, I guarantee it is much harder for him."

"I know," he said. "But shouldn't he talk to a woman? Wouldn't he be more afraid to talk to me?"

"No. He was hurt by men, Tony. And the fact that he's confided in you thus far, is a good sign. Timothy knows he can trust you."

"But...I don't know what to say..."

"You only need to listen to him."

"I...I know that, but...he's like a hurt little puppy, Duck. I just wanna give him a hug and let him cry it all out. But I'm afraid I'll freak him out and he'll go back over the deep end." Ducky gave an amused little grin at his analogy.

"Then let him come to you," he said. "If he needs a hug or a shoulder to cry on, just be there."

"He kinda hugged me in the elevator," he said, noticeably a bit uncomfortable. "But I was afraid to return it. Didn't want him running off...do you understand what I'm sayin'?"

"I believe I do, dear boy. Not all minds react in the same way, so I can't give you precise answers. But I can tell you, if the moment should arise again, give it a try, and if he seems uncomfortable, back off. It can only reassure him that you're not going to cause him any harm." Tony thought for a moment as he looked elsewhere around the room. "I commend your willingness to help him, Tony. You're a very good friend," he gave him another small smile.

"Well he's my friend," he said. "He's like...the brother I never had. Which I guess is why I give him such a hard time..." his sentence drifted off.

"I'm sure he feels the same way," he assured him. "Why else would he have picked you?" it was more of an affirmation then a question...

* * *

"Said you wanted to talk to me," Gibbs said as he drove. "Yet you've said nothing."

"I want you to tell McGee," she began, "That if he wants to talk, I will make myself available." He glanced at her for a moment, sensing there was more she wasn't saying.

"That's very admirable," he said looking back to the road, "But don't you think you should tell that to him yourself?"

"I do not wish to intrude his space," she said, and looked out her window.

"He's been talkin' a little with Tony," he said.

"Tony is a very good listener when he wants to be," she said. "But if McGee wants to talk to someone with experience..." she stopped herself, swallowing as she looked back out her window. Gibbs glanced at her again, taking his foot off the accelerator a bit.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "What do you mean, 'experience', Ziver?" he asked again. "You talk to rape victims before?" When she didn't answer, he pulled off to the side of the road. "Ziver?" he was worried now, and turned his body to face her.

"Do not make this about me, Gibbs," she warned, looking at him with a stone glare. "I have not discussed this with _anyone_, and I did not come here to discuss it with you."

"That's a damn lie," he said.

"Do not call me a liar!" she yelled, with a undertone of fear breaking through in her eyes. "What happened to me in Somalia..." she almost cursed herself under her breath for allowing it to slip, "I have been trained to deal with these problems. McGee has not. I am simply trying to be of help to him- this is NOT supposed to be about _me_!" her voice broke with the last line, and she damned her traitorous tears.

Gibbs blinked rapidly at the information she'd just revealed, and he reached out to her, pulling her into what little of an embrace he could, in that awkward angle. She found herself hugging him in return as he kissed her hair and stroked the back of her head; a comforting gesture that came naturally to him as a father.

"Why didn't ya tell me?" he asked in barely a whisper.

"I do not want anyone to know," she replied. "There is no reason. I do not want my mental ability to come into question, because that is not a factor." She pulled gently away and swiped at the betraying tears on her cheeks.

"So you went through this alone...for all this time?" he looked at her with sorry eyes.

"It is behind me," she replied. "I do not let it affect my life."

"And you wanna talk to McGee? As if you've got some magical cure? You haven't dealt with this, Ziva. You've locked it away. You can't help him if you've denied help for yourself."

"I did not claim that I could help," she retorted. "I said that I would be willing to talk with him. Someone to talk to that has been through similar circumstances," she looked at him again.

"You haven't even talked to Tony?" he asked.

"Why would I do that?" she squinted. "Why would he need to know these things?"

"Because he loves you," he said. Her eyes darted around between them.

"How did you-"

"I just know," he said. "Point is, you should tell him. Of all people, Ziva, you know that he wouldn't run away scared."

"He has helped me," she said as she met his eyes again. "He may not know that. But he has." She was silent for a moment, "Trust isn't something that came natural to me. I found a lot of it here...and thought for a long time, that I had misplaced it. But I know now...I know the few people in the world that my trust is safe with." He searched her eyes for a moment.

"I hope one of those people is me," he said. Then he felt her hand on his. And she nodded.

* * *

Abby sat in front of her computer, reading over an email sent from the Buffalo PD violent crimes division. Attached, were several photos; most of them of the wreck, the dead body of Bradley Deberoh, and where the accident took place. But the photos that disturbed her the most, were of a plastic bag that contained two condom wrappers, and two used condoms...both covered with a thin sheen of blood.

She felt like she might vomit. But she closed the photos and read through the information that came with them. They sent a copy of the DNA sequence from the blood, and she quickly matched it to McGee's. Abby wanted to cry...

But she suddenly heard her office door hiss open, and she quickly minimized the email and turned as McGee walked out of the office. His arms were crossed over him and he looked exhausted.

"You okay?" she asked as she stood.

"Do you have my overnight bag?" he asked, dodging the question.

"Yeah, it's right here," she said, fetching it from the evidence table.

"I need to take a shower," he said with little emotion.

"Do you need help?" she asked innocently, but he quickly shook his head.

"Need to get the hands off of me," he mumbled as he headed out the door with his bag. She furrowed her brow, thinking maybe she'd misunderstood him. Her stomach hurt as she sat back down on the chair in front of her computer. Her mind had a thousand images running through it...some from the photos, and many from what she'd imagined had happened in that elevator in Buffalo.

She had to distract herself somehow. And now that McGee was up, she could turn on the music. She pushed up from the chair and turned on the cd player, taking a deep breath as the loud music began to play. She turned toward her office, noticing the shifted blanket on the futon, and decided to straighten it up a bit.

She picked up the throw and folded it, setting it down neatly at one end, then picked up the pillow...noticing immediately that it was wet. She sat down with it in her lap and examined it further. He had been crying...why hadn't she heard him? Her mouth frowned and her jaw cocked a bit, and her own tears began to fall...


	5. Chapter 5

McGee stripped off his clothes, with the exception of his boxers, which he refused to remove for now. He'd turned on the hot water and hung up the last set of clothes he had in the bag before stepping into the steady, hot stream.

Again, it was painful, but a pain he was in complete control of. He grabbed the body wash and squeezed a good amount onto a washcloth and began scrubbing his chest, working his way down. He pulled the waistband of his boxers down a bit on his side, and looked at the bruise there. He'd noticed it earlier when he woke up on the futon.

It was disgusting...a perfect imprint of a hand... He scrubbed at it with the washcloth, vigorously, as if it were a smudge he could make disappear. Then he paused. Tim reached over to his other side, slowly pulling the waistband away to reveal a similar bruise and his face frowned.

He grabbed the body wash and dumped more of it onto the cloth and began the vigorous ritual on his other side. He scrubbed until it burned... and he examined it again. It was still there...both of them. He yelled in frustration and turned the water up so it beat down harder on him as he continued scrubbing...

* * *

Gibbs and Ziva entered the bullpen with coffee. Ziva set one down on Tony's desk and studied him as his face was glued to the screen in front of him. "What are you doing?" she asked. He glanced briefly at her before returning to the screen.

"Trying to find some kind of information on how to talk to male rape victims," he said quietly. "There's like...nothing here," he smacked the side of the monitor in frustration. "No calls, Boss," he said, glancing at Gibbs when he looked down at the desk phone. Ziva looked at Gibbs for a moment before turning back to Tony.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" she asked him. Tony looked up at her.

"Sure," he said and stood. "Everything okay?" She nodded, looking at his chest. Gibbs' cell rang, and they both waited for a moment to see if they were needed.

"Yeah, Gibbs." Tony watched his boss's face, and decided it was necessary to stay. "I'll take care of it, Abby," he said and ended the call. He looked over at the agents, seemingly at a loss for what to do in that moment.

"What's up?" Tony stepped closer to him. Gibbs pursed his lips and looked back and forth between the two, as if caught in some sort of indecision.

"Both of ya, come with me," he said finally, and turned to walk out of the bullpen.

"Boss?"

"McGee went to take a shower half an hour ago," he told them as they walked. "Still hasn't come out."

* * *

As they entered the shower room, they heard the water on, and saw a puddle on the floor coming from the very last stall. Tim's clothes hung outside of it. Cautiously, they moved toward it. "McGee?" Tony called out, but they heard no answer. Tony looked down at the discarded articles of clothing on the floor, noticing no underwear, and coming to the conclusion he'd left them on. He held a hand up for the others to wait as he approached.

Before looking in, he called out again, "Probie, you okay?" he asked.

"They wouldn't come off," he heard him say, and he walked cautiously to the opening of the stall. Tim was sitting on the floor; his knees pulled up to his chest. Tony reached in to turn off the water.

"Jesus, Probie, the water is freezing," he said as he cut off the water, realizing that it was, in fact, only the hot tap that had been on.

"Guess it ran out," Tim replied, emotionless.

"What'd you do to yourself?" he said when he saw the pinpoint spots of blood bead from his side. He squatted down beside him

"I was just trying to get his hands off of me," he said. "But they won't come off." He heard rustling from somewhere outside the stalls. "Is someone else here?" he asked, a bit nervous.

"Just Gibbs and Ziva," Tony told him calmly.

"Oh. Okay." Tony realized McGee was shivering now.

"Let us help you out of there, okay?" he asked, and Tim nodded. Tony stood and looked over at his boss and Ziva, nodding to them, and they started to make their way over to him as Tony grabbed a towel. Gibbs thought it best that Ziva assist Tony. He didn't want to cause his agent discomfort by placing a second man in the small space.

Once they got him up, Tony wrapped the towel around his shoulders and they lead him to the bench to sit. McGee began to swipe at his side again, and Ziva knelt down in front of him and took his face in her hands.

"They are gone, McGee," she told him calmly. He looked into her eyes in search of truth. Gibbs and DiNozzo watched the display as she continued to talk to him. "Their hands are gone now. There is nothing but you there," she gently stroked his cheek. Tim blinked as if the statement had suddenly computed, and he nodded, almost imperceptibly.

Tony sat down beside him on the bench with another towel in his hands. Ziva stood, placing a gentle kiss on McGee's forehead before letting go of his face. "Thanks, Ziva," he said, then looked back down as he pulled the towel tighter around himself.

Tony watched Ziva as she walked over to the stall and retrieved Tim's clothes from the hook. She brought them over and laid them on the bench next to him. "Do you need anything?" she asked him. He shook his head. "If you do... you know where to find me," she said, then glanced at Tony briefly before turning to walk away.

Gibbs looked at Tony, somehow indicating the question, 'Do you have this?'. Tony nodded and his boss opened his phone and turned to follow Ziva out.

"Gotta get dressed, McGee," Tony told him, "Before you catch a cold." Tim stood, almost robotic in his movements as he followed Tony's directions. "Need any help?" he kinda hoped not.

"I've got it," Tim replied. Tony turned away a bit on the bench to give him privacy. After a minute of listening to the rustling of his partner getting dressed, he turned back. He was mid-way putting his shirt on, and Tony caught a glimpse of the bruise that he'd been so desperately trying to remove, and suddenly understood. "Think it'll always be like this?" McGee asked, pulling Tony from his thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think I... fell off the deep end?" he asked, searching his eyes. "That I'll never be the same?" Tony furrowed a brow at the question that was damn near what he'd asked his boss earlier. He shook his head.

"No way, Tim. You went through something really difficult. I think...you're handling it a lot better then I would if it was me," he told him, realizing that that was probably absolutely true.

"Really?" his eyes seemed to gain some kind of light in that moment. Tony nodded. McGee's gaze shifted back and forth for a moment. "Well I'm glad it wasn't you," he said, then met his friend's eyes again. "I'm glad it wasn't you, Tony," he closed the space between the and hugged Tony. Tony was suddenly and completely heartbroken. He wrapped his own arms around Tim's back, and was grateful that he didn't flinch or pull away.

"Don't say that," he told him. "If I'd been there, I would never have let them do that to you."

"I know...but if I've learned anything from this," he said as he pulled away, "It's that all the 'woulda's, shoulda's and coulda's, aren't gonna change anything. I don't blame anyone but myself for what happened."

"You can't blame yourself, either, Probie," he said.

"I should be smart enough to avoid getting slipped a roofy," he retorted. Tony flinched for a moment and his eyes darted around in thought. "What is it?" McGee asked.

"You're right," he said. It was Tim's turn to flinch. "You _are_ too smart to have been slipped a roofy, Probie."

"That's what I'm saying."

"No...it's not your fault. It was the bartender..."

* * *

_--Tim sat down at the bar as he surveyed the people around him. "Hey, cutie," he heard a woman's voice and spun around to see the red-headed bartender he'd seen earlier. He gave her a small smile. "Hey...aren't you Thom Gemcity?" she asked._

"_That'd be me, yeah."_

"_I loved your book," she smiled._

"_Thanks."_

"_What are you doing tonight?" she gave him a seductive smile. He smiled at her, but felt like it would be a really bad idea...something just wouldn't feel right._

"_I'm flattered, really, but...there's this girl..."_

"_Is she here?"_

"_No. Back home. I was gonna bring her, but..."_

"_Well then what's the problem, Sugar?"_

"_The problem is, I just wouldn't feel right about it. But thanks anyway," he turned away and looked over the crowd, feeling a little sheepish now._

"_Well, here ya go, anyway, Hun," she set a drink down in front of him. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me."--_

* * *

"Boss," Tony said as he rushed into the bullpen, Tim at his heels. "The surveillance tapes from the hotel; is there any of the bar?"

"Yes," Ziva said from her desk and typed into her computer, putting it up on the screen. "McGee had one drink, and it never left his hands," she said as she played the tape.

"Back it up," he said as Gibbs joined the agents in front of the screen. "Zoom in on the bartender." They watched her make the drink, but didn't see her actually slip anything into it, as the station was slightly blocked. Then Tony noticed something after she set the drink down in front of McGee. "Hold on...back it up just a little," he said. Once it began to play back, he pointed it out. "Look. After she hands him the drink, she throws the shaker into the dishwater," he showed. "Why would she do that? Bar's packed, and she's gonna need that again...right?"

"'Cause it had Rohypnol in it," Gibbs caught on and went to his desk to pick up his phone. Tony turned to McGee with a grin.

"See, Probie," he said, "Wasn't anything you did. No way you could've known." Tim looked at the woman paused on the screen.

"Why would she do that?" he asked no one in particular. "She asked if I wanted to hook up. I said no thanks..."

"You...turned her down?" Tony asked in disbelief.

"I know that's incomprehensible to you, Tony," he made a face, "But I don't jump on every chick that wants a piece of 'Thom Gemcity'."

"So she slipped you a roofy, and intended to have you anyway?" Ziva pondered out loud.

"Never underestimate a red-head," Gibbs said as he hung up the phone. "Buff PD just picked her up. Apparently, this isn't the first time it's happened. They've been trying to figure it out for three months. They've been going over the tapes too, and caught it about an hour ago. She just came on shift, and they were about to call us."

"But I do not understand where the Deberoh's fit into all of this," Ziva said.

"Play the tape," Gibbs said, and they all gathered back around the screen. "They're gonna send over three more; all dating back in the past few months with the same footage." Gibbs took the remote from Ziva and handed it to McGee. "Fast forward an hour," he said. McGee complied and hit play after the tape reached that point. They watched as the Deberoh brothers were signaled over by the bartender, and came to where McGee was practically passed out on the bar. They each took an arm and carried him out of view of the recording.

"She drugged any guy that turned her down, and made the staff believe they were just removing him from the bar," Tony surmised. Ziva returned to her desk as she received an email from the PD.

"They say this happened on twelve separate occasions, but only three were reported," she told them. "I just received another message," she told them. "It says to turn on the news...?" McGee clicked the remote to TV mode, and a reporter popped up on the screen.

_"...several victims may have not come forward to report the incident. But police and professionals say that if you have been hurt in any way by these men, that you should come forward and seek counsel. Again, this is Regina Bradshaw reporting from Memorial Hospital in Buffalo, New York, where one Jacob Michael Deberoh, the one survivor of a car accident which killed his brother, Bradley who had a blood-alcohol level of .16, was transported earlier this morning and put on life-support, has died. Officials say they both were involved in several rape cases at The Millennium Hotel here in Buffalo, with the help of this woman," _a picture popped up on the screen, _"Vanessa Andrews, who works at the hotel bar as well as reception..."_

McGee turned off the broadcast and looked somewhere in the air in front of him. Gibbs and Tony looked at him. "I guess it's over then," Tim said.

"For them," Gibbs said. McGee looked at him for a moment, then moved to sit at his desk.

"Guess I should...go home."

"You really should eat, McGee," Tony told him. "I haven't seen you eat all day."

"Not really hungry, Tony," he said, glancing at him. Then he realized the worry that still etched his friend's face. "But I guess I can try and eat something," he gave in and stood. "I'll go see what's in the vending machines."

"I can run out and get you something," Tony offered.

"No, it's okay," he said with a small smile as he passed by him. Tony decided not to push the matter further.

"We will go pick up some sandwiches anyway," Ziva told Gibbs. "Do you want anything?"

"Coffee," he replied.

"Of course," she smirked. "Anything to _eat_, I meant."

"I'm good," he replied and sat down behind his desk as he watched the two disappear into the elevator. Once the doors closed, he stood again and headed toward the vending machines. McGee was standing in front of one of the machines, seemingly at first glance, trying to decide, as he leaned slightly against it. But he wasn't really focused on anything the machine had to offer.

"I'd start with some crackers," Gibbs suggested. Tim looked over at him, then back to the machine and punched in the appropriate numbers. "You know we're all here for you if you need to talk," he told him.

"I don't want you to look at me like some...victim, from here on out, Boss," he said as he reached in to grab the package.

"I don't think you should pretend like nothing happened," he told him. Tim looked at him. "Just because they're dead, doesn't erase what they did. You can't hold all of that inside."

"Why not?" he asked with all seriousness.

"Because I know what it can do...if you do that." He walked over to a table and sat down. Tim hesitantly joined him. "Ziva wanted me to tell you," he began, "That she's willing to be there to talk to you when you're ready." Tim looked down at his crackers and opened the package. "She said...you might wanna talk to someone who's been through what you've been through." Tim's eyes shot up to him.

"What?"

"I didn't know...no one did. Not till she told me today." Tim glanced down at the table.

"When?"

"Somalia," he told him. Tim looked at him again.

"All this time..." he thought for a moment, "I knew there was something...something different..."

"Yeah, we all thought we understood. But we didn't." Gibbs watched McGee as gears seemed to be turning in his head.

"What they did..." his eyes fixed on the red plastic wrappings in his hands, "It's humiliating, Boss," he told him.

"It's not your fault," Gibbs told him.

"I guess I know that," he said. "But I can't help feeling like...somehow it is."

"You heard what I told ya," he said. "You heard the news cast. It happened to a lot of people, Tim."

"And I can't help feeling like if I'd said yes to Vanessa, none of this woulda happened to me."

"You don't know that," he said. "And you can't take the blame for some psychopath's way of thinking. I won't allow it," he told him sternly.

"Okay," he said as he twisted the package in his fingers.

"Damnit, McGee, don't agree because you think you have to," Tim looked up at him. "Agree because it's the truth. You're a lot stronger then you give yourself credit for. But you're not gonna get better if you can't get past the blame." Tim's eyes darted back and forth between his. Gibbs felt a pang of guilt as he looked at his agent. "I'm sorry...shouldn't have yelled."

"No," McGee shook his head. "You're right, Boss. I get it... I think maybe...I've been stalling because...every time I let it go, it all hits me again. And I don't like the way it feels. Every time I close my eyes..." he drifted off. Gibbs started to understand.

"No one's giving you a deadline, McGee," he said softly. He glanced down at his watch. "Hell, it's been less then 24 hours since it happened. I think you've come pretty damn far for that." Tim made a hint of an appreciative smile and glanced back down at the crackers. After a few silent moments, Gibbs spoke again, "You gonna eat those, or stare at 'em?" he smirked.

McGee picked up one of the crackers and looked at it for a moment. He _was_ hungry, but the smell hit him, and he suddenly felt ill. "Don't feel well," he said, and Gibbs saw the change of color in his face before he shot up from his chair and ran quickly to the bathroom.

Gibbs was overcome with concern, and picked up his phone to call Ducky.

_"Yes, Jethro," _the doctor answered.

"Duck, I'm worried about McGee. Just tried to get him to eat some crackers and he took off to the bathroom. Pretty sure he's throwin' up," he said as he moved toward the room.

_"He really should be in the hospital," _he said with clear concern in his voice. _"But I'll be right up."_

"Thanks," he said and ended the call, making his way into the restroom. Tim was, indeed, vomiting into the toilet. Though very little seemed to hit the water, he approached the open stall. "You okay?" he didn't know why he kept asking this...

"Think so, Boss," he tried to catch his breath. "Nothing to throw up but stomach acid."

"Ducky's comin' up here. He thinks you should go to the hospital."

"Please...please, Boss, I don't wanna go there," he coughed and gagged more at the mentioning.

"I know," he put a comforting hand on his back, and felt him flinch. "Just me, Tim," he reassured.

"Sorry," he breathed. "I'm sorry, Boss..." Gibbs felt sick. His cell began to chirp and he left the stall to answer it.

"What do ya need, Abs?"

_"Everything okay, Gibbs? I mean with Tim?"_

"Not sure right now. Why?"

_"Just something you should probably see...I mean, maybe you shouldn't...but you probably should."_

"Be down in a minute," he said then ended the call and looked back over at McGee as he came out of the stall.

"I'm kinda tired," he said, looking defeated.

"Come on," he took his arm and lead him out to the bullpen. He grabbed his jacket and rolled it up, handing it over to his agent. "Lay down and take a nap," he told him. "Ducky will be up here in a minute." McGee complied without hesitation, setting the rolled up jacket on the floor next to his desk, and laid down, putting his head on the make-shift pillow.

"Thanks, Boss," he said as his eyes drifted closed. Gibbs sat on the edge of his own desk and waited until Ducky came into the bullpen.

"Where is he, Jethro?" he asked.

"Sleepin'," he told him, motioning to the floor as Ducky came into view. "Stay up here with him, will ya?"

"I will. And I'll try not to wake him. I'm going to do a quick check of his vitals."

"Abby needs to show me something," he said as he made his way toward the stairs. "I'll be back soon."

* * *

Tony pulled the car into the parking lot of the sandwich shop and turned off the car, and Ziva turned to him. "Tony," she said, placing a hand on his arm before he could open his door. He looked at her. "I need to tell you something." He turned his body to face her.

"What is it, Zi?" he asked.

"First, I want you to understand that I...never intended on telling this to anyone," her eyes focused on his chest as she spoke. "But after what happened to McGee...I feel it's necessary that you know."

"I meant to tell you in the shower room," Tony said, "What you said to him...that was really amazing." She gave him a small smile.

"I simply understood what he was going through," she said. Tony tried to fathom what that meant as he waited for her to continue. She took a deep breath. "I need you to understand," she said, "That I am not telling you this because I need you to be concerned." Tony furrowed a brow.

"What are you saying?" his gut churned.

"In Somalia," she began, closing her eyes briefly, "The men that held me captive..." she looked at his eyes, hoping she wouldn't have to explain further. The tears that began to form in his eyes confirmed that he understood.

"No...no, Zi," his voice cracked. Her hand went to his face.

"Please do not do that, Tony. Do not be sad. I am okay." His hand covered the one she placed on his face, but he couldn't hold back the sadness that painted his already weary face.

"I'm sorry..." he closed his eyes to try and compose himself, and swallowed down the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I did not want you to look at me like that," she said with glassy eyes. After a moment, he turned away and pushed open his door. She thought, at first, that he was angry with her, and she looked down at her lap. But then she realized he was opening her door, and she looked up at him as he pulled her up from her seat.

His arms went around her and held her tightly against him. She held him tightly as well, and they both shook with sobs that were a mixture of sadness for both her and their friend. They stood there for a long solemn moment before separating. And their eyes met.

"What do we do now?" he asked.

"We get sandwiches," she smiled at him. He couldn't help but to smirk back at her. "Then we talk to him."

* * *

**It's time for bed for me, folks. But I think I've done a fair job shooting out chapters for today! Hope you're enjoying this story so far. Things will get a bit more graphic from this point out. Not purely graphic, but definite moments of it. Please let me know what you think of this so far. Thanks :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**For those of you who haven't noticed the rating-change, here's your warning. Not for the queasy- that's all I can say.**

* * *

"What is it, Abby?" Gibbs said as he entered the goth's lab.

"How's McGee, Gibbs?" she turned to face him.

"I told you, I don't know."

"Well that's not an acceptable answer!"

"Abs," he put his hands on her shoulders, "He's sleepin' upstairs. I don't know what else to tell you right now, 'cause I really just....don't know." She looked at him for another moment before turning back to her computer.

"What I thought you should see," she began, "I thought maybe I'd spare you and just explain." He squinted at her. "The evidence they found in Deberoh's car suggests they were intending to cover up what they'd done to McGee, which isn't surprising, seeing as how they've done this before."

"What evidence did they find?" he said, turning his face toward the screen.

"A plastic bag...containing two used condoms and their wrappers," her gaze dropped somewhere away from the screen without pulling up the pictures. "Their prints were on the wrappers. Condoms were intact." She paused in her explanation.

"Abby..."

"The outside of both condoms were covered in Tim's blood," she said in barely a whisper. Gibbs cringed, though the information wasn't surprising. "Judging by the unravel-length, they weren't very well endowed, Gibbs," she said with hopes to bring some kind of relief to the horror. "They wouldn't have caused damage to internal organs, or hemorrhaging. But the amount of blood on the sheets is indicative of tearing. He needs to go to the hospital."

"He's not bleeding anymore, Abby."

"How could you know that, Gibbs? Have you personally checked?"

"He told me. And I'm pretty sure we would've noticed."

"I guess so...I'm just worried about him."

"We all are... You should get some rest, Abs. Go home."

"I wanna be here for Tim," she turned to him. "He's hurting and confused...and who knows what's going on in his head? Or with his body for that matter..."

"Abby," he stopped her, "We're not gonna let anything happen to him. You know that, right?"

"I know those assholes are dead, and that bitch is locked away," she cocked her jaw, "But I'm not going home, Gibbs. I'm staying wherever McGee is. Even if that means to your house." Gibbs cocked his head, slightly amused.

"Didn't know my house was at the end of your extreme-scale."

"Oh...no! I didn't mean that. I just meant...you know what I meant..." He nodded.

"Shut all this down, Abs," he told her as he turned away toward the door, "Come upstairs and have somethin' to eat."

* * *

"Hey, Ducky," Tony said as he and Ziva came out of the elevator toward the bullpen with two large bags. Ducky held a finger to his mouth to indicate they needed to be quiet, and once they walked into the area, they saw why. McGee was fast asleep on the floor. Tony held the bags still so they wouldn't make anymore noise, then turned his head to Ziva and motioned for her to follow him toward the break area in front of the vending machines.

Ducky followed behind them and spoke softly, "You may want to seclude your eating to this area," he told them. "Seems it doesn't take much to cause Timothy an upset stomach." Tony noticed the open package of crackers as he set the bags down on the table.

"He didn't even touch these," he said with a furrowed brow.

"Unfortunately, even if he had, I'm afraid they would've come back up again. I'm going to call Bethesda and see if I can't get something set up here for him."

"Like what?" Tony asked.

"Well, he seems to be dehydrated. Nausea in this case, not surprising in the least. The fact that he hasn't eaten, though, worries me greatly. It's one thing to lose your appetite. But another entirely to continue to vomit. He needs some anti-nausea meds and an IV drip to make sure he gets the nutrients his body requires...and he really does need to be examined. I do wish he would allow us to take him to a hospital."

"I understand why he does not wish to go," Ziva spoke as she pulled out some of the wrapped sandwiches. "It is humiliating," she looked at him. "Almost just as traumatizing as the event itself."

"Yes," Ducky watched her as she looked back at the bags. "I would imagine so. However embarrassing it may be, I would hate if something medically devastating were happening to him right under our very watchful eyes."

"Already did happen," Tony said with narrowed eyes as he fumbled with the wrapper on his sandwich. Ducky sighed. Any psychological training he may have received, would certainly be rejected by Tony at this point. Instead he remained silent as he watched the agent examine the food in front of him carefully, then eventually dismiss it...tossing it back into the bag as he stood and walked back into the bullpen.

Ziva watched the doctor's face fall into a bit of disappointment. "Do not be offended, Ducky," she told him and he met her eyes. "Tony handles things...a little differently."

"And yet, quite a bit similar to some people I know," he told her, knowingly.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, changing the subject.

"I suppose I am," he said and came over to take a sandwich from Ziva's offering hand. "Thank you, dear." She nodded and gave him a small smile.

* * *

Tony sat in the chair at his desk, turned to face where Tim was sleeping on the floor. In his hands, he rolled a balled up wad of paper he'd had every intention of shooting into the wastebasket next to McGee's desk. But he just sat there, swiveling slightly from side to side as he played with the paper between his fingers.

Gibbs and Abby soon exited the stairwell and walked toward the bullpen. Tony held a finger to his mouth before Abby could speak, then motioned toward the break-room. "Foods in there," he told them quietly. Abby glanced at McGee for a moment, seeming satisfied that he was actually sleeping, then continued toward the break-room. Gibbs watched Tony for a moment as his agent continued to watch McGee as he slept.

Gibbs looked over at his own desk to see the fresh cup of coffee they'd brought him, and he picked it up, sitting down on the edge of the desk as he looked back at Tony. "Thanks for the coffee," he told him quietly, and took a sip. Tony looked at him and nodded, then turned his chair to face the desk and laid his head down. "You okay?"

"Just a little tired, Boss," he said without picking his head up. Understandable. "Got extra food if you're hungry, Boss."

"You eat?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

"Not hungry."

"Seems to be going around," he replied.

"Why does my stomach hurt?" the question seemed pathetic to Tony, but Gibbs detected its meaning. He stood from the edge of his desk and walked over to Tony's.

"You've had a long day," he said.

"We all have," he picked up his head and looked up at Gibbs, then down at McGee.

"You've been trying to take some of the burden onto yourself. Somethin' you can't really do, but have somehow convinced yourself that suffering with him, will somehow ease his own pain." Tony looked up at his boss and leaned back a bit in his chair.

"What else am I supposed to do?" it wasn't a question that had an answer. They both knew that.

"Get some sleep, DiNozzo," he said as he turned back to his own desk. "I'll keep an eye on him."

* * *

_--He felt himself being helped into the elevator, and barely registered what was going on around him. He watched unfamiliar hands press the number 4 as the doors closed them in. Then he hit another button, and felt his body shake with the halting of the lift and he grabbed onto the handrails the best he could. The lights went dim, and no alarm sounded._

_ "We should wait till we get him to his room," a voice said._

_ "No way. This'll be much more fun." Tim felt himself spun around and shoved into the corner. He tried to squirm away from the rough hands that held him in place; but then he felt a knife at his back, and froze._

_ "What are you doing?" Tim asked. He shook...he was terrified._

_ "Relax," the voice said. "You won't remember it anyway." The knife left his back and started cutting through his belt._

_ "Please...just let me out of here..." he begged._

_ "No way," the voice said. And then he felt his pants being pulled down._

_ "What are you doing? Why are you doing this?" he panicked. 'Why can't I move...why can't I fight back?' he thought. A grim feeling took over his mind when he heard rustling plastic._

_ "Can never be too sure. Always gotta use protection," he could hear the smiling behind the strange voice. Then he felt the rough hands return to him..._

_ 'No...no no no....no...' he panicked as he felt the invasion begin. He struggled...tried to move away as he desperately clung to the handrails. His hips were being pulled back roughly, and an indescribable pain ripped through him as the man entered him from behind. _

_ Tim yelped...his scream muffled as his face pressed into the elevator wall. "Please stop!" he yelled. "Please..." But his pleading only seemed to make the man hold him tighter as he roughly plunged into him over and over._

_ Tim felt like he was being torn apart..._

_ "Awe, Brad, he's crying," the voice said. "So sad." They both laughed. "Hurry up, man. I want a go."_

_ "Almost," he groaned. _

_ McGee couldn't hold it in anymore. The pain was too much...he screamed...--_

Tony was torn from his sleep by unmistakable crying, and his gaze shot directly to McGee. Gibbs had a hand on the agent's forehead and he looked up at Tony as he quickly made his way to Tim's side. "Gonna get Duck," Gibbs said as he stood.

"McGee?" Tony searched Tim's face as he turned him onto his back. His friend's body shook with sobs; his whole body tense. His fists were clenched and sweat dripped from his forehead. Tony took his hand and held onto it the best he could. "Tim, it's me! It's Tony! You're safe!" he tried to wake him from the nightmare.

"Please ...help me!" Tim screamed in his sleep...fresh tears squeezing from his closed eyelids.

"Probie, you're safe! They're gone...you're home, McGee!" his free hand went to the side of Tim's face, and he felt the frightening heat Gibbs must have felt before going to get Ducky.

"To...Tony, please..." McGee's sobbing was more of a whimper now. "Please help me..."

"I'm here, Tim. They can't hurt you anymore," his hand went to his shoulder. Suddenly, Ducky was kneeling at Tim's other side, and Tony pulled his hand from his shoulder and held onto Tim's hand with both of his.

"My god, he's burning up," Ducky said. "I'm afraid we must call an ambulance. He probably has an infection."

"You can't do anything for him?" Tony begged the doctor.

"Anthony, I understand his reluctance to go to the hospital. But there is a fine line between comfort and death. I was willing to compromise when it was negotiable, but I've got to draw the line here. Please don't make this harder than it already is," his tone was seasoned with anger, but the devastation on Tony's face made him ease up. "I'll tell them to sedate him for the examination," he said. "And hopefully from there on out we can figure out a way to keep him there for as little time as possible. But for now, I need your cooperation."

Tony swallowed as his jaw clenched. And he hesitantly nodded, then glanced at the others who were standing just outside the bullpen, with the exception of Gibbs, who was already on the phone with emergency services.

Abby clung to Ziva in a fit of tears, and Ziva tried to console her, but was looking at Tony with sympathy. His attention was soon pulled back to McGee as the fist he'd been holding, opened and gripped down on his hand. Tim let out a struggled scream again through clenched teeth...his other hand reaching to Tony's arm, clinging for dear life as his body turned on its side toward him.

"Please...stop...stopstop-no more! Please..." he shook with his renewed sobs.

Gibbs watched as Tony's face bent down closer to Tim's ear as he tried to talk him through...pull him from the nightmare. He felt helpless...he turned to Ziva and walked up to her, putting a hand on Abby's back as he spoke.

"Go...take her with you to Bethesda. Wait for us there," he told Ziva. She understood and nodded, glancing back to Tony for a moment. "I'll take care of him, Ziver." She looked at him again, then guided Abby toward the elevator. Gibbs walked back and knelt down beside Ducky, and heard Tim's words...

"Tony...please make 'em stop," his voice squeaked with pain. Tony's breath shook.

"Tim..." his voice cracked. "Right here with you..." he swallowed. Ducky looked at Gibbs with heavy eyes. Both men were terrified to touch the troubled soul on the floor before them, but Tony firmly grasped McGee's bicep and tried to speak comfort to him. "I'm right here with you, McGee..." his voice cracked again...

* * *

It seemed like ages before the EMTs arrived and put the, now sedated, man onto the stretcher. Gibbs and Tony stood outside of the elevator as Ducky would ride down with them and accompany Tim to the hospital in the ambulance. Ducky gave Gibbs a sympathetic look as the doors closed in front of them.

Gibbs turned to face Tony who crossed his arms in front of him. "You okay?" he asked his senior agent.

"I'm alright..." he turned away when his emotion threatened to spill. He walked away toward the wall to their right and stopped in front of it; breathing shakily as his resolve began to dissipate. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the cool wall.

Gibbs followed him, quietly, understanding what thoughts must be going on in his head. "Hard seein' him like that," Gibbs said. And Tony's face crumbled as he couldn't hold it in any longer. Still, he tried desperately to regain control.

"He wants me to help him...and I can't," he broke... Gibbs put a hand high on the agent's back, and Tony turned toward him, meaning to apologize for his meltdown, but instead he was pulled into his boss's arms. If anything more than wanting to take away some of his pain, Gibbs didn't want him to see his own tears that threatened to fall.

"You _are_ helping him, Tony," he said in barely a whisper. Tony's body shook with sobs, and it only made Gibbs hold onto him tighter. The senior agent was torn between his sorrow and his unwillingness to let his boss see him this way, and his instinct caused him to try and pull away. But Gibbs didn't let him.

Tony gave in and hid his face against the man's shoulder; his arms unfolding from their protective placement in front of his chest, and clenching somewhere at the back of Gibbs' suit coat as his tears ran their course. His sobs were silent but powerful, and it broke Gibbs' heart.

"It's gonna be okay," he told him. "Tim's not goin' through this alone, and I won't let you, either." Tony was completely aware that he'd never received such comfort in this fashion from this man, let alone his own father. And it gave him sudden strength.

As his tears began to subside, he felt a pang of embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Boss," he said as he began to gently pull away.

"Don't," Gibbs shook his head and searched the agent's face. "Let's go," he walked back to the elevator and pressed the button. Tony followed him, eyes glued to the floor. "DiNozzo," Tony looked up at his boss when he heard him. "It's okay." Tony's eyes shifted. "Hey...if you can't believe that...then he never will." Tony looked at him...and he understood...

* * *

**Gonna end this chapter here. This was a tough one. But I know you can handle it;) Imagining myself in this situation as I wrote, was somewhat painful. Hopefully it was worth it! Let me know what you think. Thanks:)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry this took so long! I got a lot of this done last night, but didn't get the chance to finish the chapter till this evening. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

_***A worried look pasted Tony's face...***_

* * *

Abby was eerily silent as she sat in the passenger seat of Ziva's car. At first, Ziva was glad to have a moment free of needing to console her, but now she worried.

"Are you okay, Abby?" she asked. For a moment, she didn't answer.

"I love him," she said finally. Ziva glanced at her, then back to the road.

"I am...not sure I understand."

"I love McGee," she repeated. "I've loved him for a long time..."

"I know you two dated briefly...but-"

"I broke it off," she finished for her. "Things got a little serious, and I guess it freaked me out a little. So I thought it would be best to end it."

"And now?"

"I know I was wrong," she said. "Timmy really tried, Ziva. He did everything I liked to do, even if he didn't really like it himself. He always tried things anyway, just to make me happy. And that's what scared me. I didn't want him to change who he was, just to be with me."

"Relationships are about compromise, Abby."

"I know that. I just...felt like somehow I was cheating him. But the more I date, the more I realize that none of those guys compare to how I felt when I was with him. Even now, as friends..."

"Have you told him this?"

"No..." she looked down at her lap. "I was actually gonna talk to him last night. But I kinda got pissed when he didn't accept my invitation to the concert."

"Perhaps if he knew it was more then that..."

"Oh god..." she cried, "If I'd told him, none of this would've happened..."

"Do not think that," Ziva said as she reached her hand out to hers. "McGee does not blame you for this."

"He might if I tell him. Maybe I shouldn't tell him...He might not even feel that way about me anymore..."

"Abby," she warned. "I can tell that he has feelings for you. I have always seen that. And I see the way both of you act when one of you has a date or a new person in their life."

"Timmy is just overprotective."

"When it comes to you," she smiled as she glanced over at her. Abby looked out her window. There was another long moment of silence.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Abby asked quietly. The question was followed by a moment of silence. "Ziva?" she looked over at her.

"I would by lying if I said I knew the answer," she told her. "But I know that he is strong. And he has friends who care about him very much. We will help him to heal, if we can." She gently pulled her hand away and put it on the wheel as they turned the corner. "Do I seem different, Abby?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"What do you mean?" she furrowed a brow in her direction. Ziva was unsure if she wanted to continue. But she thought maybe it would help...somehow.

"When they rescued me from Somalia," she said, "Did I seem different then before?" she was interested to know, in fact. She'd never asked anyone but herself that question.

"For a little while," she thought, "You seemed withdrawn. But then things started to get better...wait..." her eyes shot to her. "Ziva...what?" Ziva swallowed but didn't move her eyes from the road. "Are you saying..."

"I tell you this because you should know that there is life beyond that. That there is hope..." Abby continued to look at her, searching her face as she thought back. "I was ready to die before they came for me," she confessed with a hint of shakiness in her voice. Abby's eyes glassed over. "But when I was brought here...home...I felt safe. It may have taken a while, but I was brought back from a dark place, because people I loved...people that loved me...were simply there. Even if they didn't know what they were saving me from."

"You never told any of us?" it was more a statement then a question.

"Until today. And that may be why it took me so long," she confessed. "But we know what happened to McGee. And whether or not he is comfortable with that fact right now, it will be easier for him in the long run. He has all of us, Abby. He has you."

It wasn't until that moment, that Abby realized they were now parked in front of the hospital. "What do I do?" she asked. "How do I tell him...after what happened to him, do you think he would ever want this? I don't know what to do..."

"Be there for him," she told her simply. "Tell him how you feel, when it feels like the right time. But let him be in control. It is one thing he does need...possibly above everything else."

Abby looked at her friend; a wisdom she didn't realize she'd had beyond what they'd already known about her life. It made her sad and happy at the same time...confused her, really. But it also gave her a bit of hope. Something she desperately needed right now...

* * *

Abby sat in the waiting room of the E.R in one of the ugly blue chairs, with her knees tucked up under her chin. Across from her, Ziva had fallen asleep on Tony's shoulder, and his cheek rested on her head as he, too, had dozed off. She'd only left for a few minutes to use the bathroom when they were still awake.

Gibbs came into the waiting room then, with a cup of what the hospital cafeteria claimed was coffee, in one hand, and a Caf-Pow in the other. He saw the sleeping agents and was a bit relieved they were actually getting the long-overdue rest. He sat down next to Abby, who was still very much awake. Her eyes were evidence of her exhaustion.

"Hey," he said and she looked at him as if she'd just now realized he'd appeared. He handed her the drink and she gladly accepted. "Maybe you shouldn't drink that. You need sleep, Abs."

"Not gonna happen, Gibbs," she said, and took a long sip. He smirked at her. "How long is it gonna take? He's been in there a really long time. What if something happened?"

"Ducky will tell us when he knows. He's in there with him." As if on cue, Ducky appeared from beyond the O.R doors, which they hadn't expected him to come from. Gibbs and Abby stood and met him as he walked.

"Sorry, Jethro," he said. "I wanted to be sure everything would be taken care of the way Timothy would want it."

"What's the verdict?" Gibbs asked.

"During the examination, they discovered a perforation in his colon," he told them, and Gibbs furrowed his brow. "That's why he was rushed to the O.R. He must have been in a great deal more of pain then he let on. The abdominal pain would have been crippling."

"But he's gonna be alright, Ducky, right?" Abby asked.

"Luckily, the perforation wasn't large enough to require a colostomy. But as can be expected, there was a lot of tearing. He'll need to be on a liquid diet for quite some time. But I've arranged for us to be able to keep him out of the hospital once he recovers from surgery. He'll require constant supervision, Jethro."

"He can stay at my house," he told him. "How long does he need to stay here?"

"Overnight at least. Someone should stay with him."

"I'll stay," they looked over when they heard Tony's voice.

"In light of his attachment to you during this time, I think that would be best," Ducky said. "His room is already prepared, so I suggest you allow me to show you to it. You need to sleep, dear boy. You may be in for a rough night."

Tony turned his head toward Ziva who was still sleeping, and gently touched her cheek to wake her. She looked up at him. "I'm staying here, Zi. He's gotta stay overnight." She nodded and turned toward the rest of them as they stood.

"What do I gotta do, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"I'll arrange for any equipment necessary to be brought by. All you need to do is make a place for him, preferably on the ground level. Not only will it be better for the healing process, but he'll be on pain medication for a while. Stairs would be difficult."

"I can help, Gibbs," Abby said. "I want to. Please."

"I will help as well," Ziva said. "Then I will be back to check on both of you," she said to Tony. Tony responded with a tired, yet infamous grin.

"Boss's got two pretty ladies spendin' the night. What could possibly go wrong?" he winked. He felt a smack on the back of his head and straightened. "Sorry, Boss...sleep deprivation..." Gibbs cocked his head and smirked at the sign of Tony's usual lighthearted humor.

"Leave the light on for him, Tony," Abby said as she gave him a quick hug. "He doesn't like when it's dark." Tony glanced at Gibbs.

* * *

Gibbs grinned when he walked back into his living room to see both girls asleep on either end of the couch. He glanced down at his watch. 4am. It had definitely been a very long day. He went back into the spare room and grabbed two throws, making his way back to the couch. He covered Abby with one of them, then kissed her cheek.

Then he took the second throw and covered Ziva. Her eyes fluttered open. "Go back to sleep, Ziver," he whispered. He kissed her forehead and she gave him a sleepy smile and closed her eyes again. Gibbs turned out the light and made his way up the stairs.

He practically collapsed on the bed, grateful for whatever sleep he would be able to get. He drifted into unconsciousness; his last thoughts being with his agents at the hospital.

* * *

"_I'm right here with you, McGee..." he heard Tony say._

"_Tony?"_

"_Tim! It's me! It's Tony! You're safe!"_

"_I can't see you...Tony, please help me!"_

"_Probie, you're safe! They're gone...you're home, McGee!"_

"_I... I can still hear them... oh god...no no no...stop! Tony, please make it stop!"_

"_Tim...Right here with you..."_

"_I'm glad it wasn't you, Tony..." –_

* * *

He'd just drifted into sleep when he was reawakened by the sound of McGee's bed being wheeled into the room. Tony sat up from the small guest cot that had been set up in the room, and saw Ducky follow the bed in behind the nurses.

"Anthony," he said as he made his way to him. "He came through surgery just fine. He'll be sedated through the night. Go back to sleep."

"They gotta leave the light on for him, Ducky," he said sleepily.

"I've already spoken to them about that," he assured him.

"He's gonna be okay?"

"He's going to be okay, Tony."

"Okay...g'night, Ducky," he settled back onto the cot and waited for the staff and Ducky to clear the room, then he got back up, and pushed the cot up next to the bed, leaving enough room for nurses if they needed to come in. He did a visual check of his sleeping friend before settling back onto the cot. "I'm right here, McGee," he said softly, then closed his eyes...

* * *

"Tony..." Tony heard a voice and cracked open his eyes, trying to remember where he was. "Tony?" it was Tim. Tony sat up in the cot and looked over at McGee.

"Hey," he stood from the cot and went to his side, "You okay?"

"Why am I in the hospital?"

"You had a really high fever, and they found a...perforation in your colon. They fixed you up though. We're gonna get you outta here in the morning."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Goin' to Gibbs' house. I can stay there with you, if you want."

"You don't have to do that."

"It's okay, McGee. I don't mind," he watched Tim shift uncomfortably. "You feelin' okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Look, Tim...you were sick all day, and you never said anything to us. You don't have anything to be ashamed of. If you're in pain, they have medication that can help you. All you have to do is say the word." McGee looked at him for a moment, then let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in.

"It hurts..." he said simply. Then he sucked in a breath and held it again.

"Okay," Tony pressed the call button next to the bed. "Can you tell me what hurts?" he asked as he took his hand. Somehow, the gesture was comforting to both of them.

"My stomach," he said. "I think I'm gonna throw up."

"Stop holding your breath," he told him. "Just breathe. Ya gotta try not to puke, okay? You're dehydrated as it is." But he grabbed a basin anyway, just in case.

The nurse came into the room then. "His stomach hurts," Tony told her. "And he's nauseous. Isn't he supposed to be on something to stop that?"

"It's been long enough that he can receive more meds if he needs them," she said as she walked to the IV drip. She picked up a small vial and began filling a syringe, and just as she began to insert it into the IV tube, Tony felt Tim's hand grip down on his.

"Tony, I can't..." he reached for the basin and turned onto his side and began retching into it as he released his friend's hand to grip the tub.

"They'll take effect shortly," she reassured them, then typed a code into the machine which added a dose of pain killer medication. "I'll take the basin," she reached out with a sympathetic look. "And I'll bring you some ice-chips." The nurse walked out of the room and Tony redirected his attention to his friend.

"I'm sorry," Tim said as he caught his breath.

"Not your fault, McGee. They shoulda come in here sooner." Tim laid his head back on the pillow and sighed.

"Think the meds are starting to work," he said as his eyelids grew heavy.

"Feelin' better?"

"Much...sorry for wakin' you up."

"You can wake me up whenever you want, ya hear, Probie?" he gently patted his shoulder.

"Okay. I'm gonna go back to sleep...thanks, Tony."

"G'night." Tony settled back down on the cot, relieved that McGee was feeling better for the moment. But still a bit unnerved by his friend's discomfort. He laid awake for a while before he felt calm enough to close his eyes again. He didn't even hear when the nurse had briefly returned to the room to set down a cup of ice-chips...

* * *

"Hey, DiNozzo," Tony heard his boss's voice and felt a hand nudging his shoulder, and he shot awake.

"Boss?" he looked around the room, and at the empty hospital bed before him. "Where's McGee?"

"Told me to let you sleep till we were ready to go," he explained as he stood. "Rough night?"

"Not too bad," he said as he stood and stretched. "He got up once, but slept through the rest of the night."

"You stayin' at my place, too?"

"If that's okay with you, Boss."

"As long as you don't mind the couch. Abby wants to stay and help out, too," he said as the walked out of the room and into the elevator.

"Well, we should get Ziva to stay, too, and make it a party," he grinned. Gibbs squinted at him. "Or...or we could take shifts..."

* * *

"Hey, Timmy," Abby said as she entered the guess room with a steaming mug. McGee turned onto his back and sat up a bit in the bed, scooting back on the headboard.

"Hey, Abby."

"I brought you some yummy broth," she grinned as she made her way to the bed.

"That sounds like an oxymoron," he said.

"I know...sorry, but Ducky said nothing but liquids for a while." Tim took the mug and brought it to his nose to smell. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked as she sat on the edge of the bed beside him.

"Not bad, actually," he told her. "I'm kinda relieved the nausea has gone away." He took a sip of the broth.

"That's really great, Tim," she smiled as she watched him take another long sip. "Do you want some water? Or maybe a soda?"

"I've got water. I'm good, thanks."

"Well, do you need another pillow? Are you comfortable?" McGee grinned at her.

"I'm fine, Abby, really."

"I know. I'm just worried about you," she looked down at her lap. "When I saw you...so out of it on the floor..." Tim detected the brokenness in her voice. "I was really scared," she looked back at him, and her eyes were glassy.

"You mean, when I fell asleep by my desk?" he furrowed his brow and set his mug down on the side table.

"You were having a nightmare. Do you remember?" she took his hand. He looked down at it.

"Yeah..." he replied in barely a whisper.

"I'm so sorry, Tim," her voice cracked and he looked back up at her eyes as a tear rolled down her cheek. "Tony was there trying to help...and I was just..."

"What was I doing?" he asked, a bit embarrassed.

"You were...begging for Tony to help you..." she was crying now. "You were screaming..."

He was more concerned now with her tears, and he reached out to pull her into a hug, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "It's okay, Abby."

"No...no it's not," she gently pulled away and put her hands on either side of his face as her eyes darted back and forth between his. She summoned all the courage she had, and forced herself to stop crying. "I should've told you this a long time ago...and I'm sorry for that, Timmy. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Tell me what, Abs?" he wiped her tears from her cheeks.

"I love you," she swallowed. "I _love you_, love you," she said. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you that sooner, 'cause maybe then none of this woulda happened..." He looked at her for a moment, frozen as to how to respond. Her hands slowly slipped from his face as she sat back up. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." Tim shook his head.

"No...I'm just...confused," he told her.

"It's okay if you don't feel the same way," she barely whispered. "I just wanted you to know."

"Abby, I've always had feelings for you. You know that, right?"

"I know you're always sweet and nice...and you're always there for me. That's just the kinda person you are...to everyone."

"Not to everyone. If you feel this way, then why did you break up with me?"

"Because I'm an idiot."

"You're not an idiot, Abby."

"Yes, I am," she raised her brows. "I broke it off because I was scared."

"Of me?" he asked, confused.

"No. I was scared of how I felt. I was afraid that if I let myself continue to feel that way, that I would end up hurt." Tim opened his mouth to say something, but she stopped him, "I know you would never hurt me, McGee. I know that... and that's why I'm an idiot. And I'm sorry..."

They were both silent for a long moment. So long, in fact, that Abby became nervous and started chewing on her lip. "I guess you _are_ an idiot, Abigail Sciuto," McGee said.

"What?!" she exclaimed with a furrowed brow. His mouth formed a smile at her reaction.

"So I guess I'm in love with the most intelligent and beautiful idiot I've ever met." She flinched at his words, and blinked rapidly as she felt tears pool in her eyes.

"Do you mean that?" she asked. They heard a light knock at the door and Abby quickly wiped the tears from her eyes as Ziva came in.

"Are you keeping the broth down?" she asked him.

"Uh...yeah, Ziva. Thanks," Tim told her. Ziva realized they were both a little flushed.

"I am sorry... I interrupted..."

"No, it's okay," Abby said as she stood and turned to face her. The corner of Ziva's mouth curled up as she realized what had happened. Then she looked at McGee.

"Tony is bringing over his DVD player and some movies," she told him. "I apologize preemptively."

"Actually, I wouldn't mind the distraction. Looks like I'm gonna be here for a while."

"He wanted to know if you would like him to grab your laptop while he is picking up some clothes from your place."

"That'd be great. Thanks," his brow suddenly furrowed as his eyes looked down at the bed.

"You okay?" Abby asked, worriedly.

"I gotta pee," he said.

"Oh...uh...do you need help?" she asked.

"No...I uh...just need some privacy. I gotta get up to go to the bathroom and I'm...just wearing boxers," he glanced around, a bit embarrassed.

"Oh! Okay," Abby followed Ziva out of the room and quietly closed the door. "Just yell if you need help!" she called through the door. "You don't think he'll fall or anything, do you?" she whispered to Ziva.

"You told him, yes?" she grinned. Abby's cheeks flushed red. "Well?" Abby smiled, then nodded.

"You were so right, Zi. Thank you so much," she hugged her. "I don't think I could've done that without your pep-talk."

"Pep-talk?" she gently pulled away. "This is something they do before football games, yes?"

"Something like that," she gave a small laugh.

"I am going to let Tony know to get McGee's computer. Do you need him to pick anything up for you?"

"No. I need to go home anyway and change. Vance needs me to come in and run some evidence..."

* * *

"Honey, I'm home!" Tony said in his best possible Ricky Ricardo voice.

"Tony, shush," she said as she came out of the kitchen. "McGee is sleeping."

"Oh...sorry," he whispered as he set the DVD player down on the coffee table, and swung his backpack down onto the couch.

"I went to give him his pain killers, but he'd fallen asleep." They both sat down on the couch.

"How's he been since I left this morning?"

"He is glad to be out of the hospital. And Abby spent some time with him," she grinned. He smirked at her.

"I know that grin, Zi. What's goin' on with Abby and McGee?" Ziva stood and squinted in his direction as she walked back toward the kitchen.

"It is not my place to tell," she told him quietly. He stood and followed behind her.

"Aw, c'mon. I promise I won't tell," he grabbed her and spun her around as they reached the table, holding her gently at the waist.

"Do not make me hurt you, Tony," she grinned at him. But he knew how to play this game.

"I don't mind if you hurt me," he whispered and lowered his lips to her jawline right below her ear.

"If you think you can somehow get information out of me by seducing me, you have forgotten that I am trained to...mmm..."

"Trained to what?" he grinned as he continued his administrations on her ear.

"Tony," she pushed him away gently, "We are at Gibbs' house!"

"But he's not here right now," he pulled back toward her and kissed her. She melted into the kiss for just a moment before pulling away again.

"He and Ducky will be back any minute," she said, and then they heard the front door open. "See?" she jumped away from him and went to the fridge to fetch a bottle of water.

"Hey, Boss," Tony walked into view of the door to see Gibbs walking in with a bag of groceries. "Need a hand?"

"Duck's got it," he said. "Abby in with McGee?"

"He's sleeping," Tony said.

"Abby was called in to work," Ziva said as she entered the living room. "The director asked if she could look at some evidence." Gibbs squinted, setting the bag down on the kitchen table as he thought.

"I haven't heard anything about a case," he said.

"There's a case?" Ducky asked as he shut the front door. "I haven't gotten a call."

"Either have I," Gibbs said.

"Vance woulda called us...wouldn't he?" Tony asked. Gibbs squinted again, then his eyes widened.

"He wants to go over evidence...he must've found out about the Millennium case," he took off for the door. Tony went out after him.

"Boss?"

"I gotta get over there before he makes her talk..."

_***Tony suddenly realized why Gibbs left in such a hurry...worry painted his face...***_

* * *

**My 'thwoop' scene was less then exciting, I know. But sometimes the thwoop scenes are vague lol. Sue me! hehehe**


	8. Chapter 8

"This was a private matter, Director," Abby argued as she stood in her lab, defending the accusations Vance threw her way.

"A matter involving an agent who works for this agency. No one cleared use of this lab for this investigation. Imagine my surprise when I got a call from the Chief of Buffalo PD verifying the shipment of evidence to your lab."

"The investigation is over," Gibbs said as he came into the lab. Vance turned around to face the man, and Abby seemed relieved that he'd shown up.

"Why wasn't I notified about Agent McGee's involvement in the the Millennium case?" Vance asked with a hint of agitation in his voice. Gibbs squinted in his direction, glancing briefly at Abby. "Your office," Vance said as he passed the agent out of the lab. Gibbs followed him into the elevator. Vance hit the emergency switch. "I understand why you didn't make this a public matter, Agent Gibbs. But you should've let me know what was going on."

"No offense, Director, but it didn't really concern you."

"It concerns my agent, it concerns me."

"He's _my_ agent, Leon. Buff PD led the investigation into the Millennium case. We investigated into McGee's."

"I'm sorry about what happened to him. How is he?"

"If you'd wanted to know how he was, you coulda just called."

"I've got some idea of how he must be right now. But there's gonna come a time where his mental ability is gonna come into question."

"And I'll be the one to make that call, Director," Gibbs glared. Vance matched his glare with his own as they stood there in silence. After a few moments, Vance took a breath.

"I trust you'll make the right one," he told him as he flipped the emergency switch. Gibbs squinted, not expecting the courtesy. "I made a call to Bethesda. Heard he was discharged today. I assume you know where he is?"

"He's staying at my place while he recovers from surgery." Vance flinched, not having known the specifics of his injury. "I'm askin' for time off for my team. At least one of us every day until he's better."

"I assume you mean to include Ms. Sciuto in that?" Gibbs nodded.

"And Ducky," he added.

"That's a pretty tall order."

"It's necessary."

"Doesn't McGee have family?"

"I'm not too sure he's ready to explain this to them, Leon," he said with a furrowed brow.

"Guess I can understand that," his gaze looked away for a moment. "I'll see what I can do. But this agency will suffer without your team."

"It'll suffer worse if McGee doesn't get the help he needs," he said. The intensity of Gibbs voice didn't go unnoticed. And Vance knew that Gibbs was right in his convictions.

"When he's ready, I know of a good psychiatrist outside of the agency. If he wants, that is. You just keep me posted on his progress, and that's all I'll ask of you... If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call me?" Gibbs considered the question, then nodded...more in appreciation then anything. He turned to press the button to open the doors; the lift never having left the floor.

"You need Abby for anything else?" he asked as he slowly made his way out.

"She can go."

"Thank you, Director," he gave a barely noticeable smile before walking into the lab...

* * *

"Sorry to wake you up, Probie," Tony said as he sat down on the edge of the bed, "But you gotta take your meds." McGee pushed himself up against the head board.

"Glad you did, actually," he said as he took the pills from Tony. "I was starting to dream." Tony's eyes narrowed for barely a second.

"Now that you mention it, I wanted to ask you something." Tim washed the pills down with his bottle of water.

"What is it?" he asked. Tony suddenly backed out of the thought.

"You want me to set the DVD player up in here or the living room?"

"I don't think there's a television out there," Tim said.

"Oh yeah...well I guess that answers that. You wanna stay up and watch something?"

"What'd you bring?" McGee seemed happy with the idea.

"It was a difficult decision, Probie, but I managed to stick to two genres; action/adventure, and comedy. Pick a category, and I'll tell you what I've got."

* * *

_"If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball."_

_ "What?" _the man on the screen was struck with a flying wrench.

McGee, Tony and Ziva burst out laughing at the ridiculous hilarity of the movie. They'd brought chairs in from the kitchen so as to not crowd Tim's bed. Ducky smiled as he looked into the room, and walked into the kitchen to prepare some broth for McGee. Gibbs walked in and set his keys down on the counter. Hearing the laughter, he turned to Ducky for explanation.

"It's nice to see Timothy in good spirits," Ducky said as he stirred the broth in the pan. Gibbs leaned back on the counter.

"How's he been today?" he asked.

"Anthony has made sure he kept up with his medications. He's gotten a good amount of sleep, and has been able to get himself to the bathroom without any problems." Gibbs nodded in acknowledgment. "Everything pan out with the director?" he asked. Gibbs cocked his head.

"Surprisingly enough."

"And Abigail?"

"She went home to pick up a few things."

*~.~*

_"If you can dodge a car, you can dodge a ball."_

Tony and Ziva laughed. Ziva glanced at Tim, and her smile fell. McGee was slumped slightly forward; his hand shielding his face though he'd turned his head slightly away from them. By the way his shoulders shook, she knew he was crying.

Ziva put her hand on Tony's knee and he looked over at her, immediately looking over in the direction she was looking. He swallowed, and stood to make his way onto the bed beside his teammate.

"Tim?"

"I'm sorry..." he frantically wiped at the evidence of tears on his face.

"Are you okay? You in pain?"

"No...I don't even know..." he hid his face with both hands. Tony glanced at Ziva and she stood to leave them alone, quietly closing the door behind her. She stood there against the wall and listened.

"Movie wasn't supposed to make you sad, McGee," he said softly as he propped himself up against the head board next to him.

"Wasn't the movie, Tony. I know you're trying to help..." he sniffled. "It just came out of no where..."

"Flashbacks?" he asked with a furrowed brow. His heart sank as Tim nodded.

"You wanna talk about it?" Tim shook his head.

"You've gone through enough of this with me," he said as he wiped at his eyes again.

"And I'll keep going through it with you, Probie. As long as ya let me." Tony hadn't expected the statement to reignite Tim's tears. And as his friend's sobbing made him slouch even further forward, all Tony could think to do was to put his arm around his shoulders and pull him to his chest, hoping it wouldn't cause him discomfort.

But just the opposite, Tim accepted the gesture, and Tony held him as he cried. "I'm sorry..."

"It's okay, Tim," he tried to reassure him.

"How do I make myself forget...I don't want it in my head anymore..."

"I don't think you can do that, Tim." Tony could feel the sobs become stronger, though Tim didn't make a sound. Tony closed his eyes against the pain that stung his eyes. "But maybe if you talk about it, it won't hurt as much."

"I can't...I just can't, Tony..." he pulled away from him and sat back against the head board, turning his face away as he tried to compose himself.

*~.~*

Gibbs walked quietly into the hall from the kitchen and saw Ziva leaned against the wall. Usually strong and not easily moved to show emotion, she looked distraught. She glanced over when she saw him, then quickly looked down to the floor as tears dropped down her cheeks.

Gibbs swallowed, wondering what had happened, and stealthily made his way toward her. But she held up her hand, and pushed away from the wall to go to him. He gave her a look of question, and she took his arm to lead him back into the kitchen, where she would explain...

*~.~*

"Well you don't have to. It was just a suggestion..." Tony said.

"I...look, believe me; if I knew it'd make it easier, I guess...I guess I would...maybe."

"You can trust me, ya know."

"I do trust you. That's not the point. It's...just..." his voice dropped to a whisper, "It's just humiliating..." Tony wasn't sure what to say. He knew he wasn't ready for this...all anyone had told him to do was to listen. But this was hard. He didn't think he had to right things to say...

"I can't even begin to know how you feel, McGee. But what happened wasn't your fault. You have nothing to be ashamed of." He watched Tim close his eyes as a fresh tear streamed down his face. "You may not be ready to talk about it, but...when you are, I'm right here. No matter what...okay?" After a moment, McGee nodded...

* * *

Gibbs looked up from the table when he heard the guest room door close. Tony walked into the kitchen; his focus on nothing particular as he stopped in front of the table. Ducky and Ziva, too, examined the agent before them as he seemed lost in thought.

After a few silent moments, he looked up, glancing at each of them for a brief moment. "He's sleeping now," he said. "I'm gonna go for a walk," he turned back out of the kitchen and out the front door. Ziva started to stand to go after him, but Gibbs reached out and took her wrist to stop her. She looked at him in question.

"Give him some time to himself," he said quietly. She looked at Ducky, who nodded in agreement. Then she sat and looked down at the table top.

"Tony has taken on a great deal of responsibility to Timothy," Ducky said. "He needs some space to clear his head."

"He should not have to do this alone," she said as she looked back up at him.

"And he's not. We're all here to try and help," he explained. "But he chose Tony...for whatever reason, and perhaps unknowingly, to help him bear this burden. It's up to the rest of us to help them both through this time. Even if that means giving them some time alone."

He was right. As difficult as it might seem to withhold from going after him, he needed some time to his own thoughts...

* * *

**Bedtime! I'll have more up tomorrow :) Let me know whatcha think!**


	9. Chapter 9

Tony wasn't sure when his walk had turned into a run. And he was as equally unsure as to where he was running to... but he was glad for the crisp evening air that came in with the beginnings of the sunset. It wasn't until he came upon the railing that overlooked the river, that he decided to stop.

He gripped down on the rail as he caught his breath, and looked out over the darkening sky as it reflected on the water below. Tony was grateful when he looked to his right and saw a bench, not a couple of yards away. He walked to it and plopped down, pulling out his cellphone in a manner of habit.

He was surprised to see he'd missed a call, then realized he'd had the phone on silent from when they were watching the movie. "Shit," he murmured under his breath. He'd missed his appointment with his therapist. Today would've been a great day for that, too.

Tony dialed the therapist's personal number, which he'd called him from in the first place.

_"Hello, Tony,"_ the man sounded on the other line. _"I was wondering if everything was okay. Didn't call to cancel..."_

"Actually, Doc, it slipped my mind, but I really would've liked to be there today."

_"Busy day?"_

"Busy couple of days, actually. A friend of mine was...hurt this weekend. One of my teammates. McGee."

_"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. Is he okay?"_

"You see the news about the Millennium in Buffalo?" he asked, hoping not to have to explain.

_"The rape cases? I heard the two men responsible were both killed in an accident."_

"Yeah. Well, McGee was their last victim..." a silence caused ringing in Tony's ears.

_"Oh...I see."_

"He called me after it happened. He didn't know what had happened until we came back here. He'd hit his head."

_"But he remembers now?"_

"Yeah, he does. He's been having flashbacks...thing that's most troubling to me, and it sounds selfish, I know, but... he calls out for me to help him."

_"During the flashbacks?"_

"Yeah...is that normal? I mean...I wasn't there when it happened."

_"Does he have any lucid moments where you'd be able to ask him?"_

"I was gonna ask him earlier...but I didn't want him to think I was upset about it."

_"Are you upset about it?" _Tony considered the question.

"I'm not upset that he's asking me for help. I just don't understand...if he thinks I could've stopped it from happening. I...I don't know, Doc. I wanna help him, but I don't have a clue what to do except remind him that I'm there."

_"And that's exactly what you should be doing, Tony. He looks up to you, obviously sees that you're the strong one." _Tony let out a small laugh. _"You basically rescued him from the aftermath of the situation, and you've been there through everything. He's chosen you at his link back to reality, so to speak. You're holding on to the rope that pulls him back out of those difficult times."_

"I guess I get it," he said. "But isn't there some way to help him? I mean...how do I get him to talk about it? What can I do to stop the flashbacks from happening?"

_"That, you're going to have to leave to professionals, Tony. There's medication out there that can help. But he has to be willing to take it. Maybe you can talk to him about that. And maybe...you can convince him to come talk to me?"_

"I can try, Doc. But I don't know if he's ready, and I really don't wanna push him."

_"And that's a good attitude to have. Speaking of which, how much is this affecting _you_," _his question made Tony stiffen a bit.

"I dunno. I guess I feel a bit helpless. And to make matters worse, I just found out yesterday that my girlfriend had been raped a long time ago," his voice became a bit shaky, and he tried his hardest to maintain control.

_"You found this out? Or did she tell you herself?"_

"She told me...in light of the situation."

_"So not only are you trying to help your partner, but your girlfriend as well?"_

"She didn't tell me because she wanted support," he said, and thought about the statement for a moment before continuing, "She wanted to let us know she would be willing to talk about it with Tim. Like a support group or something."

_"I see. Listen, Tony, I've got an opening in the morning that I could fit you into if you want."_

"Yeah? So I'm not getting the free phone-consult after all," he chuckled. The therapist returned a small laugh.

_"Well, if it were still in business hours, I'd have you come in now. But I think we should meet face-to-face to discuss this any further."_

"I getcha, Doc. If I can't make it, I'll call you." He closed the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. Leaning back on the bench, he looked at the quickly darkening sky, and thought of Ziva. He'd been so wrapped up in McGee's struggle, he hadn't thought too deeply into how she was feeling. In fact, he'd even been a little frustrated that she'd never confided in him about it before.

Ziva never gave him the chance to be there for her during that time. And that fact made him feel like she didn't trust him... But even worse, his mind began to flood with questions.

_"Did I ever hurt her?" _he thought..._ "Was there ever a time I made her uncomfortable?"_ He began going over every memory of their encounters in the past. If she'd ever tensed...or flinched away... Any sound she might have made that he didn't realize at the time, was of pain and not pleasure...

* * *

"He has been gone a long time," Ziva said as she paced the living room. "I should go find him."

"It _is_ getting a bit dark, Jethro," Ducky agreed.

"Ziva, you stay here with Abby and Duck. Keep an eye on McGee. I'll go find him," Gibbs said.

"He is sleeping, Gibbs," Ziva argued. He crooked a finger for her to follow him to the door, and once they got there, he turned to face her.

"You said you wanted to help Tim," he said quietly, "If he wakes up, he's gonna need someone there he can talk to. Someone who can understand. Let me worry about DiNozzo. I'll find him," he promised. Ziva's eyes darted back and forth between his as she considered his request.

"Will you at least call me when you do?" she asked. He nodded before turning to walk out.

"Gibbs going to find Tony?" Abby asked as she descended the stairs.

"Yes, Abby," Ziva said as she turned to go to the kitchen. Abby followed her.

"Are you okay?" she asked as she approached her side. Ziva was making herself some tea.

"I am worried about him," she confessed. "I feel I may have...made things worse by telling him what happened to me."

"Well that's not fair, Ziva. You've been carrying that around forever. He should feel honored that you trust him enough to tell him."

"That is the problem," she turned to her. "I did not tell him until yesterday."

"Well...why does _that_ matter?" she asked with narrowed eyes. Ziva looked back down at her cup and stirred the liquid. Abby's eyes widened as she came to realization. "You and Tony..."

"Shush, Abby," she whispered as she turned to her again.

"Well that's completely different, Ziva," she said more quietly.

"And that is why I am worried," she said. Then they heard a sound coming from the guest room; both their heads turned in that direction. "I will go," she said, and before Abby could argue, Ziva was already at the door.

* * *

Gibbs drove as he scanned the sides of the road. He'd been driving for ten minutes, and decided to pull out his cell to call the missing agent. But as he began to dial, he looked up and saw Tony leaning against the rail by the river.

He closed his phone as he quietly put the car in park and exited the vehicle. He stood there for a moment, taking note of Tony's stature. He opened his phone again and dialed Ziva's number...

* * *

"Ziva's in with McGee, Jethro," Ducky said when he picked up her vibrating cell phone from the coffee table.

_"Just let her know I found him,"_ he said.

"I will." The call ended.

* * *

Ziva carefully climbed onto the edge of the bed in front of Tim, who was shifting slightly in the covers which a struggled look on his sleeping face. She reached out to touch his arm.

"McGee," she said softly. He stopped moving. "It is just me. Ziva." His eyes cracked open a bit to look at her. "Are you okay?" He seemed to curl up tighter into the covers.

"How did you make it stop?" he asked quietly.

"What do you mean?"

"How did you make the nightmares go away?" Ziva swallowed in response to the question. "How did you go on every day without thinking about it?" She shifted on the bed, turning away from him as she swung her legs off the side of the bed. She closed her eyes, remembering when Abby once told her long ago that she was made of stone...didn't have feelings...something like that.

McGee became suddenly aware of Ziva's pain, and pushed himself to sit up. "Ziva, I'm sorry...I didn't mean what you think..."

"No...I understand," she said through tears she didn't even realize she'd been holding in. She took a deep breath and pushed back against the head board, turning to face him again. Tim backed up against the head board as well, not taking his eyes from her as he regretted his previous questions.

"I only asked because...I don't wanna be like this anymore," he told her. She took his hand.

"It has only been two days, McGee. If you were not feeling this way, then I would be worried." He furrowed his brow as he considered her words. "Did you know," she began as she looked down at their hands, "That you helped me to get better?" He looked at her in question, and she gave him a small smile. "I was raised in a family surrounded by violence and death. The only interactions with my family involved training me to withstand it; to be strong and to survive, no matter what the odds."

"And that's why you never talk about what they did to you," he said...or maybe asked.

"I have...been wired wrong," she smirked at him as she used an analogy he could appreciate. "How I deal with my problems, Ducky would certainly not deem healthy in any way. But I am learning that these things are wrong. That I was lied to for most of my life," she blinked back tears. "The only thing that brought me back from that...you helped me to do," she told him. "You and Tony and Gibbs...Abby and Ducky. You made me believe that trust isn't something just in fairy tales. You came to find me and bring me home...when there seemed to be no reason to do so." McGee's hand gripped tighter on hers as he listened. "You cared about me," her breath shook and cracked her voice, "And you didn't give up on me. And _that_ is how I went on."

Tim was moved by her confession; looking down at the mattress between them as he let the words sink in. Then he looked up at her again. "Did you ever have flashbacks?" Her eyes darted back and forth between his.

"Every day...every night," she told him in barely a whisper. He let out a shaky breath as he looked back down at their hands again.

"E-even now?"

"Not so much anymore," she told him, putting her other hand on his. "I seldom allow myself to think about it anymore. It does not go away, but it is not as difficult."

"Do you think if you'd talked about it, it would've been easier?" he looked up at her again.

"I do not know," she told him. "But it might make it easier if you talked about it. And I am willing to be here when you do."

"That doesn't seem very fair," he said, and she looked at him with question. "You're telling me that you can relate to what I went through, but you've never actually talked to anyone about it. And now I'm supposed to tell you everything that happened...even though every time I think about it, I wanna vomit? I can barely stand it replaying in my mind, let alone say it out loud..."

"I understand, all too well, why you are hesitant to say it," she said. "It is...embarrassing. Humiliating," she looked down at her lap as she drew her hands away and crossed them in front of her.

"I'm sorry, Ziva. I didn't mean to make this into some kind of battle."

"If I talked about what happened to me," she started, "Would it make you more comfortable to talk about what happened to you?"

"You don't have to do that," he said.

"I know," she looked at him. "And I don't even know if I can. But I will try...if it will help you..."

"Honestly I...I don't think I'm ready for this yet," he looked down at his empty hands. She moved closer to him and gently held his arm as she laid her head on his shoulder.

"When you are ready, you will let me know, yes?" He let out a breath.

"Ziva..."

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" she asked, stiffening a bit.

"No, I just...thank you..."

* * *

Gibbs walked quietly up to the rail just a foot away from Tony, and leaned onto it as he looked out at the dark water of the river. "Starting to get chilly," Gibbs said, and at Tony's realization that he was there, he turned his head slightly away and made a sound resembling a small laugh. Gibbs considered him, carefully, until his suspicions were confirmed when Tony's hand went to his hidden face to, undoubtedly, dry his face. He decided to look back out at the water before Tony could realize he'd seen him.

"You following me, Boss?" he asked as he turned back to the river again.

"Ziva started to get worried when you didn't come back."

"I didn't _not_ come back," he said, "I just haven't turned around yet is all." Gibbs smirked. "Needed some time to think." Gibbs nodded.

"I can leave if you're not done."

"No...I think I'm good," he stood up straight and turned around toward where Gibbs parked.

"Gonna walk back, or do you want a ride?" in the street light, Gibbs noticed the unusual pale color in Tony's face, and the bags under his eyes. "Have you eaten anything today?" he asked. Tony looked at him with a furrowed brow. Then his eyes seemed to grow distant as if he was trying to remember, himself.

"Haven't been hungry, Boss," he said finally. Gibbs cocked his head, understanding all too well.

"Gotta eat something," he said and started walking toward the car. Tony caught up to him.

"Haven't seen you eat anything either," he retorted.

"Ducky forced me to get some lunch with him today. You, on the other hand, haven't eaten since Friday, I'm pretty sure." They entered the car and closed the doors.

"Probie can't have anything but broth and applesauce. So I don't really wanna throw it in his face by eating in front of him."

"So, we'll stop somewhere," he said as he started the car. "There's a place up the street."

"Not exactly appropriate for being at a restaurant, Boss," Tony said, indicating his slightly sweaty polo.

"We can eat outside."

* * *

"Ducky," Ziva said as she entered the kitchen, "I believe it is time for McGee's medication."

"That, it is," he replied as he went to the counter to retrieve the pills. "Abigail can bring it to him with some applesauce." Abby smiled and stood from the table to get McGee's snack. "Gibbs called. He found Tony, he wanted me to let you know."

"Good," she said, relieved. As Abby took the pills from Ducky and headed toward the guest room, Ziva sat down at the table.

"Are you hungry, my dear?" he asked as her turned to see her. She looked at him for a moment.

"I suppose I should eat something," she said. "But...I do not have much of an appetite at the moment." He gave a small smile as he turned toward the refrigerator.

"I know just the thing to...keep your spirits up in otherwise somber moments," he said as he reached into the freezer. She cocked her head, interested in his remedy, and grinned when he pulled out a pint of ice cream. "This particular flavor, I've found most therapeutic," he said as he fetched two spoons. "It's called 'Death by Chocolate'." he grinned as he sat down beside her and popped off the lid.

She took the spoon he held out to her and scooped a bit of the chocolate mixture onto it. Skeptically, she put it into her mouth and let it settle on her tongue before her eyes closed in appreciation. "Sometimes, I think you are the most intelligent man I know," she said, and it made him laugh...

*~.~*

"Thanks, Abby," McGee said after he swallowed the pills. "I think I'll hold off on the applesauce for a little bit, though."

"Okay. I'll just go put it back in the fridge," she said as she reached for it.

"No, that's okay. Just leave it," he told her as he set down his water. She nodded and turned toward the TV.

"Did you watch a movie with Tony today?" she asked as she went to look through the DVDs.

"Part of it," he said. "Wanna watch something?"

"I don't wanna keep you up if you're tired," she said, turning back toward him.

"No, that's okay, Abs. I don't mind."

"You need your rest, Timmy," she cocked her jaw. He narrowed his eyes.

"I've been doing that all day." She gave him a stubborn look. "Abby..." his features softened. "Will you stay here with me for a while?" All stubbornness left her face and she smiled.

"Of course I will," she said as she made her way to the bed and climbed in next to him. "Now, what were you watching that you didn't get to finish?"

"Dodgeball," he replied.

"Oh! I loved that movie," she reached for the remote on the side table. "You wanna watch the rest of it?"

"Sure," he said as he relaxed back onto the head board and reached for his applesauce. Abby resumed the DVD and snuggled in closer to Tim.

"So how'd things go with Vance today?" he asked.

"Uh..." she thought fast, "A lot quicker then I thought, actually. Turns out everything was finished before I even got there. Just a formality."

"Hm," he sounded before swallowing a mouthful of the applesauce. "So where's Tony?"

"Out with Gibbs somewhere. I'm sure they'll be back soon. Do you want me to call him?"

"No, that's okay. I was just wondering."

* * *

Tony sat on the bench outside of the little cafe they'd pulled up to, as he waited for Gibbs to come out with their food. The street was relatively deserted for a Saturday night. Probably because of the chill in the air. But he was content with the cold, as it seemed to distract him a little.

His focus went to a little book store across the street. Nothing particular caught his attention, but the font on the sign was interesting enough to look at for the moment. The light bounced off of it strangely; a familiar purple color that made his eyelids heavy. He realized that he was completely exhausted.

"Gonna be a while on the steaks," Gibbs said as he sat down beside him and handed him a cup of coffee.

"Good. Maybe I'll be hungry by then," he said sarcastically, then took a long sip of the hot coffee. "Thanks." Gibbs looked over at the book store Tony seemed to be fixated on, and drank from his own cup.

"Thinkin' about takin' up reading, DiNozzo?" Tony smirked.

"Actually, I was wondering if the purple neon lights have a sedative quality, or if I'm really _this_ tired."

"Ya did walk about ten miles," he smirked.

"Ran, actually. Yeah," he took another sip of the coffee. Gibbs looked at him.

"Did ya figure anything out?" he asked. Tony glanced over at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Whatever you were thinkin' about," he asked before taking another drink. Tony looked back over at the light, hoping it would stop any thoughts that threatened to return.

"Not really," then he laughed at his recollection, "I got a call from my therapist. Missed my appointment today and he wanted to know why."

"Did ya tell him?" Gibbs avoided prodding into the fact that he was seeing a therapist in the first place.

"Yeah. Told him I'd come in tomorrow morning."

"Well you've got the day off," he told him.

"Is tomorrow Monday already?" he furrowed his brow. "I think my days are starting to blend together." Gibbs cocked his head.

"Guess you can talk to him about whatever you didn't figure out then," Gibbs said before taking another sip. Tony looked down at his own cup as thoughts began seeping back into his mind. He could feel bile rising in his throat and he desperately tried to swallow it back down. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe through it, hoping Gibbs didn't notice his discomfort.

But suddenly, he could smell Chinese food being cooked up the street, and the wave of nausea washed over him. His eyes shot open, "Shit...be right back, Boss..." he sprung up from the bench, dropping his coffee in his frantic attempt to make it into the alley before releasing the half cup of coffee that had barely been in his stomach.

Gibbs picked up the cup Tony had dropped, and threw it into a nearby trashcan along with his own, before heading toward his agent. "I've had better coffee, but it wasn't _that_ bad," he said as he watched Tony try to compose himself.

"Wasn't the coffee, Boss," he said as he pulled his hand from the concrete wall.

"Yeah, I figured that much. Why don't ya tell me what's got you this sick?" Gibbs put a hand on his back when Tony began to heave again at the thought. "What happened with McGee today...before you left?" Tony breathed for a moment.

"Can we go to the car?" he asked as he straightened. His stance wavered a bit, and Gibbs caught his arm and helped him the rest of the way to the car. Once inside, Tony laid his head back on the headrest and slumped down in the seat the best he could. Gibbs grabbed a bottle of water from the trunk before heading to the driver seat, and handed it to Tony once he was inside.

"How much do you know about what happened to Ziva in Somalia?" Tony asked without looking away from the bottle in his hands. Gibbs drew in a breath and let it out slowly.

"She told me yesterday," he replied in a low voice. He understood, now, what had him so upset. "She wouldn't want you feelin' this way, Tony. She told you because she needed to."

"I just wish she would've told me sooner...before..." he didn't continue. He wasn't ready to talk about this with him.

"You need to talk to her about this. Running away from it, isn't the answer."

"That's not why I left."

"Isn't it?" he asked more sternly. Tony looked at him.

"I told you I needed some time to think."

"Yeah, but what you did was stew in your own thoughts. That's completely different." Tony opened his mouth to retort, but closed it again as the statement sunk in. "You've got a lot on your plate right now. Most of it, you didn't even ask for. But if you try to swallow it all down yourself, it's gonna keep coming back up like this, and it's not gonna end well."

Tony understood the meaning of what he'd said, but he couldn't help the corners of his mouth as they began to curl up, "That was a good analogy, Boss," he let out a little laugh. "Very fitting." Gibbs cocked his head and couldn't help his own smirk as he realized it himself.

"I try."

* * *

Ziva peeked into the guest room and smiled at the sweet scene before her. Abby and Tim had both fallen asleep, curled up and facing each other. The movie had started over, but she decided to leave it on, as the noise might help McGee sleep with less vivid dreams. She'd found it helpful in the past for herself.

She quietly closed the door and turned her head towards the front door as she heard it open. Gibbs and Tony walked in, and she made her way toward them as Tony shut the door.

"He sleepin'?" Gibbs asked.

"He and Abby fell asleep watching a movie," she told them in a hushed voice. Then she looked more closely at Tony, realizing how worn he seemed.

"I'm gonna go upstairs and take a quick shower," he told her. She nodded and watched him disappear up the stairs.

"Where was he?" she turned to face Gibbs.

"Went for a walk, like he said," he told her and took her arm to gently lead her into the kitchen. "Where's Ducky?"

"He is out on the deck. Is everything okay?" she asked.

"He's got a lot on his mind, Ziver. You should talk to him. He needs some reassurance," he turned and walked out to the deck. "Hey, Duck."

"Good evening, Jethro. Something on your mind?" Ducky shifted in his chair to better face him.

"Those nutrient shakes we got for McGee, think Tony could keep one of them down?"

"Is he having stomach trouble?"

"He hasn't eaten in two days. I tried to get him to eat, but he couldn't even keep down a cup of coffee."

"Oh dear. Well, I have some antacid in my bag. Perhaps that will calm his stomach enough to keep something down for the night."

"He's takin' a shower right now, so don't get up just yet," he said as he took a seat in a chair next to his. "So what're you doin' out here?" he asked.

"Enjoying the night air," he replied.

"Is that all?" Gibbs said, questioning his friend. Ducky looked at him for a moment.

"I was also pondering something," he admitted. "An old case file from many years ago."

"Somethin' we worked on?"

"Not exactly," he replied. "It was before your time. Before _my_ time at NCIS, actually." Gibbs looked at him with curiosity. "That year, I almost ended my career."

"Never knew about that," Gibbs said.

"It's not something I enjoy telling," he told him.

"What made you think of it now?" he asked, and Ducky took a breath.

"A close friend of mine, his name was Reginald, came to me one day," he lowered his voice, "Claiming he'd been sexually assaulted while on vacation in Mexico. At the time, I wasn't aware of the details. But his injuries were quite severe, and he'd been too embarrassed to seek medical attention or even report the incident. Had I made better effort to get him the help he needed...hell...had I taken the time to listen to him, things might have been much different."

"He died," Gibbs guessed.

"He did, indeed," Ducky said, then swallowed. Gibbs' gut churned.

"You don't know that he'd ever have listened, Duck."

"Perhaps not. But the guilt ate away at me for a long time afterward. Had it not been for the support of my friends and family, I might not have become your M.E."

"Well you did right by McGee," Gibbs offered. Ducky nodded.

"The rest of the story, however, is what I was thinking about tonight. Something I hadn't known for many years afterward. Reginald's brother _had_ talked to him. He'd been talking to him for days, trying to help him through the emotional trauma."

"So it wasn't anything you didn't do, Duck. Wasn't your fault," he searched the face of his troubled friend.

"Yes, I came to realize that in the end," he paused for a moment. "Reginald's brother, unfortunately, was never quite the same. The pain and guilt of his failure to help him, eventually lead him to take his own life," he looked up at Gibbs, and that's when Gibbs realized what he was trying to convey to him. His eyes narrowed; thoughts blazing through his mind.

That's when he turned toward to door, and saw Ziva sitting at the table; her eyes fixated on the table top in front of her...

* * *

**Long chapter for ya. Hope that holds you over till tomorrow ;) OMG ITS TUESDAY! Was there a new NCIS on tonight? ::shoots self::**


	10. Chapter 10

"That was not intended for her ears, Jethro," Ducky said as they both stood to go into the kitchen.

"It is alright, Ducky," Ziva said as she stood from the table. "I should not have been listening," she met Gibbs' eyes before turning to the fridge, opening it to fetch two bottles of water. "The antacids you said you had in your bag...can you get them for me? I will make sure he takes them when he comes down."

"Of course," he said as he left to fetch his bag from his car. Ziva opened one of the bottles and looked up at Gibbs who was standing at the end of the table.

"You and Tony were gone a long time. What did he say to you?" she asked, then took a sip of the water.

"Exactly what I told you," he told her as he narrowed his eyes. "He's got a lot on his mind. Part of that is you." She sighed and closed her eyes.

"I should not have told him."

"No, Ziva, you should've told him a long time ago. Now I think he's questioning himself," his voice was quiet but stern.

"Questioning himself about what?" she asked with furrowed brow.

"What the hell do you think?" She flinched at the statement, and her eyes darted around the space between them.

"He has never hurt me," she said when she realized what he meant.

"Then tell him. He's the one who needs to hear that. Not me," his voice softened as he saw unshed tears in her eyes. "I know you didn't realize this, Ziver. I didn't either," he moved closer to her. "But I can't convince him he's wrong. You have to do that." She bit down on her tongue, but nodded in acknowledgment and turned to pick up the other bottle of water and head into the living room as Ducky returned with his bag.

"As luck would have it, I happen to have some over-the-counter anxiety medication to go along with the antacid," Ducky said as he handed the two bottles to Ziva. "Hopefully, he'll be able to keep something down _and_ get a restful night's sleep."

"Sleep sounds great to me," Tony said as he descended the stairs; hair still damp, and an old tee-shirt and navy pajama pants clinging ever so slightly to his haphazardly dried body. Gibbs motioned for Ducky to follow him as he made his way out to the deck again.

Tony was so exhausted, he didn't question the sudden disappearance of the older men as he made his way toward Ziva. "Ducky said this will help your stomach," Ziva handed him the pink bottle. He opened it and took a long drink. "You should measure it, yes?" she asked with furrowed brow.

"Even if I keep it all down," he said as he grimaced from the taste, "It'll be fine. What's that?" he pointed at the other bottle.

"Something to calm your nerves," she said, "But I think you should try one of the nutrition shakes first," she turned and went to the fridge as Tony plopped down on the couch. He was mid-yawn by the time she returned with the shake, which she adorned with a bendy straw. "You did not get much sleep last night, did you?" she asked as she sat down beside him.

"I slept a little," he said, taking the shake from her and sniffing in cautiously. It passed the smell-test, and his stomach didn't seem to lurch. He took a few sips from the straw, and Ziva studied him carefully.

"I brought you some water. Do you want to try this other medicine?"

"Sure, why not," he replied, flatly as she read the instructions on the back. Fetching the appropriate dose, she handed him the pills and water, holding his shake for him as he took the pills.

"I want to talk to you," she said, "Because apparently you are under the wrong impression about something." He set the bottle down on the coffee table and she handed the shake back to him as he looked at her. "At no point of time in our relationship, have you ever caused me discomfort or pain," she said as she put her hand gently on his face.

Tony furrowed his brow as he searched her eyes. "Are you sure, Zi?"

"I am sure. Absolutely. I would not have hidden that from you."

"You _did_ hide something from me, though."

"Not because I did not trust you," she moved closer to him and took his hand in hers. "I just did not want you to think I was made of glass. I did not want to put limitations on what we could do," she gave him a seductive smile. "And I hope that you are not dissuaded now that you know."

Tony put his hand on her cheek and leaned in to kiss her, "I love you, Ziva," he whispered as he leaned his forehead against hers.

"And I love you," she kissed him again. "Now drink the rest of this shake, and go to sleep. Abby is sleeping with McGee, so you can use the room upstairs."

"Abby's sleeping with McGee?" he grinned. She play-smacked him in the shoulder.

"They were watching a movie and fell asleep," she squinted at him. "I am going to take a shower. Do not spy on them."

"If I'm gonna spy on someone, it'll be you...in the shower," he sent an infamous smile her way as she looked back at him from the stairs. She winked at him before heading the rest of the way up.

Tony sighed as he took another sip from the shake. He glanced lazily around the room, realizing how quiet it was, and that he was alone. He set the shake down on the coffee table and curled up on the couch, meaning only to shut his eyes for a few moments, but quickly falling to sleep...

* * *

Abby quietly made her way out of the guest room just as Gibbs and Ducky came in from the deck. "Hey, Gibbs," she said quietly. "Where's Tony?"

"It looks like Anthony has fallen asleep on the couch," Ducky smirked as they came into view of the sleeping agent. Tony's back was facing them; his tee shirt twisted slightly from his movement onto his side. His arms were hiding in front of him.

"Aw, doesn't he look so cute and innocent when he's sleeping?" Abby grinned right before a big yawn. Gibbs smirked at her.

"Go on upstairs and get some more sleep, Abs," he told her.

"Well, what about you and Ducky? Are you just gonna stay up all night?"

"We'll take shifts, Abigail," Ducky assured her. "I think I've gotten more sleep then the lot of you. I'll take the next few hours."

"Wake me up when you get tired, Duck," Gibbs said as he turned to head up the stairs. Ziva started down them as he headed up. "You stayin' here?" he asked her as the paused.

"To keep an eye on Tony, yes," she smirked.

"He fell asleep," he told her.

"On the couch? He will be complaining all day tomorrow about his back." Gibbs smirked as he continued up the stairs.

"You can stay with me," Abby offered as she climbed the stairs.

"Don't worry, Ziva," Ducky said, "I'll keep an eye on him for you."

* * *

It was two in the morning before Ducky went upstairs to wake Gibbs. Four hours of sleep the agent had never been so grateful to have. "I took the liberty of setting out Timothy's medications after discovering one of mother's old daily pill organizers," he told him in a hushed voice. "Pain killers are due, if he needs them. But I didn't want to wake him just yet. Antibiotics and anti-nausea meds can wait until sun-up. It's all written out downstairs on the counter for whomever should be here during the day."

"Thanks, Duck," he said sleepily as he made his way out of the room. "You can sleep in here if you want."

"Much appreciated, Jethro. I was going to drive home, but I don't think that would be a wise choice," he said as he yawned. Gibbs smirked.

"G'night, Duck," he said before quietly closing the door. Gibbs peeked into the open door of the upstairs guestroom and grinned at the sleeping women on the bed, trying to stifle a laugh at the display. Ziva was turned the opposite way; head at the foot of the bed, and feet at the head. She lightly swatted at Abby's feet in her sleep, turning her head away from them before settling back down.

He pulled the door closed a little more, then headed quietly down the stairs. As he entered the living room, he noticed Tony hadn't budged an inch since he'd last seen him, and he had to pause for a moment to be sure the agent was still breathing. The expanding of his ribcage through his shirt, put Gibbs' mind at ease, and he reached out to grab the abandoned nutrition shake from the coffee table.

As he dumped the remaining contents into the sink, he seemed a bit satisfied that Tony had at least downed half of it. But what Gibbs wanted right now, was coffee. So, as stealthily as he could, he prepared the pot for brewing. Next to the coffee maker, lay the pill organizer; marker sketched on every little door, telling approximate times of day each container needed to be given.

Gibbs moved toward the guest room where Tim slept, as the coffee began to brew. Quietly, he opened the door just a bit, to peek a check on the agent. He was still, in fact, sleeping, and seemed to be peaceful for the moment. There was no wonder why Ducky had chosen not to wake him for his meds.

After closing the door, Gibbs returned to the kitchen to pour himself the fresh brown liquid and turned off the pot after doing so; a courtesy for Tony's uneasy stomach. Then he headed downstairs to the basement. Surely, a little sanding wouldn't wake anyone. He needed to clear his mind, anyway. His sleep hadn't been very restful in that last hour. Had it not been for the fact he'd need to get up and take over watch, he would've helped himself to one of those anxiety pills Ducky had given Tony.

After taking a long drink of the steaming coffee, Gibbs set the mug on the workbench and picked up a sanding block. As he headed to the back of the boat, he listened for any sounds that might come from upstairs, before beginning his work.

* * *

_--Trapped...Tim couldn't move...awkwardly positioned in the elevator shaft, he tried to fight away the monsters he knew lingered behind him. But he couldn't move...--_

McGee opened his eyes and looked down at his trapped body. He'd somehow twisted himself in the blankets. _I'm just at Gibbs' house_, he thought to himself. _I'm at Gibbs' house_... Carefully, and quietly, he dislodged himself from the tangled trap and felt out of breath. He needed to get out of there...just for a moment.

He crawled out of the bed, immediately feeling the sharp pain in his belly, causing him to sink quietly down on the floor. As he felt the flashback coming on, he looked over at the door and pushed his back up against the side of the bed. Tim tried to hold onto that image...the door...he was at Gibbs' house, not the elevator. _Not the elevator...I'm at Gibbs' house...I'm at Gibbs' house,_ he said over and over in his head...

*~.~*

Tony stirred slightly to the sound of sanding coming from the basement; not completely roused from his sleep, but seemingly comforted by the sound, he decided to close his eyes again. But before he drifted off, he heard the unmistakeable sound of the power going out...followed by an eery silence.

*~.~*

Gibbs was suddenly consumed by the darkness of the room. He knew the power had, for some reason, decided to go out, but he'd half-expected it to only be momentary. So he waited...and he listened. He began to hear a muffled voice from somewhere upstairs. Then he heard a thump, which he knew came from the living room, followed by hurried footsteps across the floor...Tony was going to McGee.

That's when he realized where the voice had been Tim's. He began blindly feeling his way across the basement...he wouldn't let Tony do this alone...

*~.~*

"Ow!" Tony muffled a cry out, after his leg ran violent across the corner of some random piece of furniture, causing him to lose his footing, and sent him to the floor. But as he heard Tim's struggled voice, he quickly pushed himself up and over to the room.

"I'm at Gibbs' house...I'm at Gibbs' house..." Tim's voice sounded, and Tony saw his silhouette lit by the light of the moon, sitting on the floor by the bed. He needed some kind of light...he ran back into the living room to the mantle, where there was a kerosene lamp and a small box of matches. He quickly lit it and carefully made his way back to the room.

Tony set the lamp on the dresser next to the TV and turned to Tim; his eyes were shut tightly as he hugged his knees to his chest. Tears streamed down his face as he rocked slightly back and forth. "McGee," he said as the agent continued his mantra. Tim's eyes shot open and toward Tony's voice.

"I'm at Gibbs' house..." he continued.

"Yeah, you're at Gibbs' house. Power went out, is all," he said as he sat down beside him and put his arm around his shoulders.

"I'm at Gibbs' house," he whispered. His eyes closed again; his breath was labored, and Tony could feel his increased heart rate. "But I can see them," he cried.

"They're gone, McGee," he pulled Tim's head toward him, just under his chin, as he tried to pull his friend from his flashback. "They can't hurt you anymore."

"Tony, it hurts..." he squeaked. "Make 'em stop hurting me, please..." Tony bit back tears.

"I'm right here, Probie. Right here with you. They can't hurt you...are you in pain?"

"Yes," he struggled.

"Let me go find your meds-"

"Please don't leave me here!" Tim panicked and grabbed at Tony's shirt as he cried. "Please..."

"I'm not gonna leave you," he held him. Inwardly, he was pissed that no one had given him the pain killer he'd obviously needed. Pissed at himself for not checking...

Suddenly, Gibbs was at the open door and looked at Tony. "I dunno why the power went out," he whispered. "He okay?"

"He needs his pain killers, Boss," Tony said, grateful that he was there to help. Gibbs disappeared into the kitchen, flashlight in hand, and returned with the pill organizer and a bottle of water, crouching down in front of McGee as Tony tried to convince him to take his pills. "Gotta take these, Tim," he told him as Gibbs took the pills out of the first compartment and placed them in Tony's hand. "It'll make the pain stop, okay?"

Gibbs opened the bottle of water as he watched Tim nod and grasp the pills from Tony. McGee shakily took the bottle from Gibbs, nearly dropping it en route to his mouth. But Tony reached out and held it for him as he drank, swallowing the pills quickly.

Suddenly, the power came back on, filling the room with light, and Gibbs and Tony shared a slightly relieved glance. Then they turned back to Tim, who suddenly laid his head down on his knees, hiding his face from them.

"It's gonna be okay, Probie," Tony said softly as he comfortingly rubbed his hand back and forth between the agent's shoulder blades. McGee's arms curled around his head, in attempt to block out any possible sight of his face as he began to sob.

"I'm sorry..." he cried. Gibbs' heart sank, and he reached out an unsteady hand, hovering nearby the agent's head, unsure if he would make him uncomfortable. He glanced to Tony, who gave him a nod as reassurance, and he laid his hand on the back of Tim's head. And when Tim didn't flinch, he allowed his fingers to move slightly; something that used to soothe his daughter when she woke up with nightmares...so long ago.

"Never apologize, McGee," he said softly, then removed his hand and stood, going to the kerosene lamp and blowing it out. As he turned back toward them, his eye caught view of blood dripping down what was exposed of his ankle and shin, and saw a tear in the pajama pants under his knee. But Tony didn't even seem to notice it, as his concern was mainly focused on McGee.

Gibbs heard someone descending the staircase, and backed into the hall for a moment. He saw Ziva when she rounded the corner, and he crooked his finger for her to come to him. She quickly complied, realizing her suspicions that something must be wrong, were accurate. "First aid kit under the sink upstairs," he said quietly, and she nodded in acknowledgment, waving any thoughts of curiosity for the moment as she quickly went back up to get it.

As he reentered the room, he noticed McGee had calmed a bit; his breathing somewhat returning to normal, and his arms loosening their fixed position around his head. Tony seemed to be relaxing a bit too.

Tony was beyond grateful that the pain killers were taking effect so quickly. "Want me to help you get back into bed?" he asked calmly. Tim picked up his head and looked around for a moment, then began to push himself up off the floor. Tony helped guide him, and Gibbs walked around the other side of the bed to move the blanket out of the way as he laid down.

"I don't want that," Tim said, partially dazed still, motioning to the blanket.

"Might get cold, McGee," Tony said.

"I'll be fine," he retorted and laid his head down on the pillow. Gibbs could tell that his presence was somehow affecting the agent's mood, so he quietly set the blanket down in the chair and walked out.

"Why ya bein' mean to the Boss, McGee?" Tony asked as he sat down on the bed.

"Didn't know I was," Tim furrowed his brow.

"Does it make you uncomfortable to have him in here?"

"I...don't think so..."

"C'mon, Probie, it's a simple yes or no question," he reached out for the blanket.

"I don't want that!" he said more sternly. Tony shot him a questioning look.

"Okay...what's wrong?" he asked.

"I...I'm just tired, Tony. Just wanna go back to sleep. Can we talk about it in the morning?"

"Speaking of the morning," he said, "You feel up to goin' someplace with me?"

"Where?"

"I've got an appointment with my therapist. He said it'd be okay if you wanted to come along. Or...I could get you a separate appointment...or...whatever you're comfortable with."

"I dunno," he said skeptically.

"He knows about medication that can help stop the flashbacks, Tim. You want them to go away, right?" Tim looked away at the mattress before nodding. "It's your call. You just let me know when you're ready."

"Kay." Tony set the bottle of water on the night stand and stood.

"You okay for now?" he asked.

"Yeah. Thanks...oh geez...Tony, you're leg!" he sat up. Tony looked down at what he now realized was stinging.

"Just a flesh wound, Probie," he flashed him a reassuring smile.

"I'm sorry," he cringed, "You fell coming in here, didn't you?"

"Promise you'll give my therapist a try, and I'll forgive you," he smirked. Tim's eyes darted around the air between them. "Doesn't hafta be tomorrow." He looked back up at Tony, then nodded. "G'night, McGee," he grinned, "Right down the hall if you need me," he walked out, leaving the door slightly open as he left.

As McGee settled back into his pillow, he felt a pang of guilt for what he was obviously putting Tony through. He made up his mind, then, that he would go with him in the morning. This had to stop...for both of them...

* * *

Tony entered the living room and saw Ziva sitting on the couch, and Gibbs on the chair across from her. He eyed his water bottle and sat down next to Ziva as he picked it up.

"Let's see that leg, DiNozzo," Gibbs said. Tony flashed him a nervous grin.

"It's fine, Boss. Just hit it on something when the lights were out." But his boss's glare won out, and he obeyed by putting his leg up on the coffee table, and rolled up the pant-leg. Somehow, seeing the wound made it hurt more... It wasn't bleeding any more, but the blood had begun to dry along its path down his shin. The cut itself wasn't much longer then an inch, but it was swelling all around it, and beginning to bruise in sickly purple.

"Ziver, clean him up while I get him some ice for that," he said as he stood and made his way to the kitchen.

"I can do it, Zi," he said.

"No, let me," she told him. "You have been taking care of McGee. Let us take care of you." He watched her and leaned back on the couch as she began to pour peroxide over the cut, holding a cloth beneath it so it wouldn't spill onto the table. Tony clenched his jaw in attempt not to indicate how much it stung. Ziva gently wiped down his leg with the damp cloth to remove the blood.

"These were my favorite sleep pants," Tony mumbled as Gibbs returned to the room with a make-shift icepack.

"They are very old, Tony," Ziva commented.

"That's why they were so comfortable!" he argued in a hushed voice. She put a hand on his knee and looked him in the eye.

"It was their time to die," she said very seriously, but soon curled her mouth into a smile. He made a face at her and then yelped as Gibbs set the icepack on his bruising shin.

"Thanks, Boss," he took hold of the ice as Gibbs let go. They watched as he started back toward the basement door. "You stayin' up?" Tony asked.

"Already had coffee," he told him. "You two go back to sleep," he closed the door behind him as he went down the stairs.

"I'll probably not be able to get back to sleep for a while," he sighed as he leaned back on the couch.

"Well," she said, laying her head on his shoulder, "What if I sleep here with you?" Tony smirked.

"Dontcha think that'll seem a bit suspicious when Gibbs comes back up?"

"I have a feeling he already knows," she said flatly as she drew little circles on his chest.

"You have a feeling?" he furrowed his brow, putting a hand over hers.

"We had a discussion when we went for coffee Saturday. He implied he knew something about our...relationship."

"And he didn't fire us..."

"Yet," she smirked and pulled her head up to look at his worrisome face. "Oh," she laughed and put her hand on his face, "I do not think he has a problem with it, Tony."

"Yeah, maybe not. But I'm pretty sure sleeping together in his house could change that..."

"It is just sleeping," she squinted. "I was sleeping with Abby not fifteen minutes ago."

"Oh really?" he raised a brow and smirked at her.

"But yes, you are right," she stood from the couch, "It would be disrespectful for Gibbs to find us like that." Suddenly, Tony's face was flushed with disappointment.

"Hey...that's not fair."

"Well, you can always come sleep up here with us," she smirked as she began to climb the stairs.

"I'm tellin' McGee you're sleepin' with his girl," he squinted.

"Oh please feel free. Maybe _he_ won't be such a...chicken," she grinned.

"Oh, that's it," he pushed up off the couch and went after her. She hadn't expected it, so she was stunned for a moment before trying to escape up the stairs. But he caught her and spun her around, pressing her up against the wall as he crushed his mouth down onto hers.

"You think doing _this_ is less conspicuous then sleeping on the couch?" she teased as he kissed down her neck.

"I think _this_ is a nice way to pay you back," he retorted.

"Pay me back for what?" she moaned as he pressed against her.

"For trying to get me all hot and bothered and leaving me by myself," he replied.

"I do not understand how-" He cut her off with another kiss, then pulled away completely.

"G'night, Zee-vah," he grinned and descended the stairs, leaving her there, flushed and frustrated.

_"He expects me to follow him...well, two can play at this game," _she thought, and smirked at herself as she continued up the stairs, into the guest room, and quietly shut the door.

He was partly relieved when she didn't come back down. Partly disappointed...but relieved. He was tired, and his mind was filled with terrible thoughts; nothing that would allow him an honorable performance with the woman he loved.

Minutes later, Tony found himself walking down the steps to the basement. Gibbs looked up from where he sat at his workbench, a glass of bourbon in his hand. "Can't sleep?" he asked his senior agent as he got to the bottom.

"Usually, I'd stop thought-overload with a good Audrey Hepburn flick," he smirked as he took a seat beside his boss. Gibbs poured another glass and slid it to Tony. "Thanks, Boss."

* * *

**more later! :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**So this chapter ended up being a therapy session...and I didn't realize it'd be this long. But anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

"Tony, I don't need a wheelchair," McGee argued when his partner wheeled the chair to the passenger seat of the car.

"If you pop a stitch on my watch, Gibbs will kill me, Probie. Just humor me?" Tim pursed his lips, but gave in and sat in the chair.

"This is a bad idea," he mumbled.

"How is a wheelchair a bad idea?" he asked as he kicked the door shut and began pushing him toward the door.

"Not the chair. _This_," he motioned toward the therapist's office.

"If you don't wanna do this today, it's okay," Tony told him. "You can just read magazines till I'm done. I'll try and keep it short and sweet."

"No, I told you I'd talk to him, Tony. If he can give me something that'll stop the flashbacks, then I'm ready..." he wasn't completely sure that was true; his being ready. In fact, it terrified him that he would be rehashing every detail of what happened to a complete stranger.

"Well, I'm gonna be straight-up honest with you, McGee," he told him as they maneuvered through the front door. "I didn't like this guy very much when I first started coming here."

"Why not?"

"Because I told him the truth," they turned to the voice of Tony's therapist as he came out into the lobby. "You must be Tim," he smiled and held out his hand. McGee shook it and looked him over. "I'm Aiden Arther. I'm glad you decided to see me this morning."

*~.~*

"I...wasn't really prepared to be going first," McGee said as he shifted where he lay on the couch.

"Would you be more comfortable if Tony came in here with you?" Aiden asked.

"I'm not sure I really want him to hear the details..."

"You don't have to tell the details, Tim," he told him. "Tony mentioned you were having flashbacks?"

"Yeah, that's actually why I'm here. I was hoping you could prescribe something to make them stop."

"How long has it been since the incident that you flashback to?" McGee thought for a moment.

"It happened...pretty late Friday night, I think."

"So just a few days," Aiden confirmed. "Can you describe what happens in these flashbacks? You don't have to talk about specifics. Just tell me what you experience. Emotion, physical responses..."

"Uh..." McGee shifted a bit, uncomfortably. Then took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Sometimes, I just remember things. Like a movie playing back in my head. They just happen randomly, I guess," he paused for a moment. "The first one I can remember, I...was in the elevator at work. At the time, I was just trying to remember what had happened to me. And apparently, earlier in the day, I was in there with Tony and our boss; Tony said he flipped the emergency switch...Gibbs' way of making a private office..."

"Yes, Tony told me about that."

"Thing is, I've been in that elevator thousands of times. Hundreds of times with the emergency switch flipped. But apparently, this time, I wigged out. Though I don't remember it. So I went back in there with Tony to try and make it happen again."

"And what happened?"

"Well...at first, nothing. But I was drawn to the hand rail and as soon as I reached out and grabbed it...everything started flooding back..." his heart rate began to speed up a bit, and he swallowed.

"Do you remember everything you experienced during that flashback?"

"Yeah. It was like it was happening right there...I could see them...feel them touching me...I could...feel everything," he swallowed again. Aiden allowed him a moment to continue. "I could feel the pain..."

"Do you ever see people there, that weren't there during the incident?" he asked.

"No. No, but...I hear Tony. I can hear him talking to me; telling me he's with me and that it's okay...trying to help me get out."

"Do you answer him?" he asked. Tim opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling in front of him.

"I talk to him. It's like he's close by...like he can reach in and pull me out."

"Of what happened? Or of the flashback?" Tim furrowed his brows as he tried to understand the question.

"I- I don't know. I know he wasn't there when it happened. But he's the one who came for me in the end. I mean- after it happened."

"Do you think that's why you call for him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Tony said that you ask him to help you. That you need him to make them stop." Tim blinked rapidly at the statement.

"I- I...didn't realize... I don't..." he started to panic. He sat up and swing his legs off the couch, "Can Tony come in here now?" he asked.

"Of course," he pressed a button on his phone, "Jennifer, can you send Tony in, please?"

_"Right away, Sir,"_ came the soft reply of the secretary. Tim swallowed again and tried to calm himself; regain some kind of composure...

"Hey," Tony said as he came in the door and closed it behind him. "Done already, McGee?"

"He asked if you could join us," Aiden told him.

"Oh...sure," he went to the couch and sat beside Tim.

"Tim?" Aiden asked. "Are you ready to continue?" He seemed a bit uneasy, but took comfort as Tony relaxed against the back of the couch.

"I...just wanted you to know," he looked over at Tony with a furrowed brow, "I know you...can't stop them. I guess when I say it, I'm confused. But I uh..." he looked down at his lap and Tony studied him with concern. "You make me feel...safe...I'm sorry, I know that seems completely cheesy...and maybe I'm saying it wrong..."

"No, Tim," Aiden said. "I think you're expressing true feeling. You seem to think of him as a brother, possibly?" Tim cocked his head in thought.

"Yeah...I guess I do," he seemed to be coming to some kind of revelation.

"Tony?" Aiden looked at Tony who seemed preoccupied with the statement. "You told me something last week. Would you mind if I'd share it with him?"

"Which part?" Tony squinted.

"The part that would concern Tim, of course."

"Uh...yeah. Okay," Tony seemed to shy away, and Tim looked over at him.

"Tony told me that he thinks of you as a brother, too," Aiden's words made Tim look back at him, then to Tony again.

"That true?" he asked his friend. Tony cocked his head and smirked.

"Well, sure, Probie. Why do you think I give ya such a hard time?"

"'Cause it's easy?" he laughed for a moment.

"Well that too, I guess." Aiden gave them a few moments before speaking again.

"I'd like to try something, Tim," he said. "I know you're looking for a quick fix to your problem. But the risks involved with the medications that could potentially help you, could also change you in ways you may not be comfortable with." Both agents looked at him now.

"In what ways?" Tony asked.

"There's a long list. But I'm mostly concerned about your ability to resume your job once you've recovered. The meds can cause problems in your line of work. Lack of concentration, drowsiness, dizziness, fatigue, trouble sleeping...well you get the picture."

"And that's the only thing that can help?" Tony asked, a bit upset.

"That's a medication, Tony. There are other ways to prevent or stop a flashback if it begins to occur. And Tim seems to have an idea of it already."

"What do you mean?" Tim asked.

"Using your senses to help ground you to the present. Tony, for instance, is something you hold onto that keeps you somewhat in the present and lets you stay somewhat linked with reality. In the same manner, using your senses can help you reorient with the present; touch, sight, sound....For instance, if you feel a flashback coming on, try looking around you and connecting with something in that room. Hold onto something and feel it; concentrate on how it feels and keep reminding yourself where you really are."

"I did that last night," Tim told him.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I...woke up from a dream, feeling like I was trapped. Turns out I was just stuck in the blanket." Tony suddenly realized why he'd not wanted the blanket then. "And I started to feel it begin."

"What does it feel like right before it begins?" Aiden asked.

"Like...I can't breathe. And my heart starts pounding. Stomach starts to hurt..."

"So, you can identify the most intense flashbacks before they begin. That's a good start. Tell me what you did when that happened last night."

"Well, I wanted to get out of that room," he began, "Felt like there was no air in there, but I know it was all in my head. But once I got outta bed, this horrible pain started in my stomach, so I sat on the floor. I kept telling myself where I was...focused on the door, and tried to make myself not leave that room. And for a little while, that seemed to work..." he looked back down at the floor.

"That's when the power went out," Tony said calmly. Tim nodded.

"It was just like the elevator. The sudden darkness. But I kept telling myself where I was; Hoping that it would stop..."

"When I got to his room, he was saying it," Tony told Aiden. "Over and over, 'I'm at Gibbs' house'."

"What did you do when you found him like that?" Aiden asked. Tim swallowed, looking in Tony's direction but only with his eyes.

"I went to get a kerosene lamp so he'd have some light in there," Tony began. "Thought it might help...but by the time he'd opened his eyes again, he said he could see them."

"Who could you see, Tim?" Aiden asked.

"The men..." he said in a low voice. When he didn't continue, Aiden pushed him further.

"What were they doing?"

"I- d- I only saw them for a moment. They turned me around. All I could see was their hands," Tim tried desperately to control himself. His eyes closed and his brow furrowed as his heart began pounding in his chest. Tony glanced at Aiden with a look of panic in his face. Aiden took note of Tony's concern and turned to Tim.

"Can you hear them?" Aiden asked. Tony looked back to his friend and sat forward in his seat.

"Maybe we should wait till we get him to his room," Tim said through clenched teeth. Tony was confused, looking back at Aiden before Tim began to speak again. "No way. This'll be much more fun," he said. Tony swallowed, realizing McGee was telling them what the men had said... "Relax...you won't remember it anyway..."

"Tim, can you hear me?" Aiden asked, and Tim slowly nodded and opened his eyes, focusing on nothing in particular. "What do you see?"

"The...corner," he replied shakily.

"Can you see my lamp beside my chair here?" he asked. Tim's eyes began to search, and he blinked hard. He nodded. "Keep looking at this lamp. Remind yourself where you are. Can you still hear them?"

"Never be too sure...always gotta use protection..." Tim said as his eyes became unfocused. "Look, Brad, he's crying...so sad...hurry up. I want a go..." Tony's panic became for evident as he saw tears brimming Tim's eyes. He looked at Tim's hands balled up in fists at his sides, and took one of them in his own.

"Tim, can you feel Tony taking your hand?" Aiden asked, and Tim nodded.

"Right here, McGee," Tony told him. Tim closed his eyes again, ducking his head a bit as the tears spilled over.

"Almost..." he said through clenched teeth. At first, Tony thought it was a response to what he'd said, but realized he was still relaying the voices in his head. Tony looked back at Aiden, moderately pissed that he was allowing his friend to experience this again.

"Talk to him, Tony," Aiden suggested. Tony turned back to Tim as he felt the balled up fist in his hand begin to loosen.

"Tim, I'm right here. You don't have to do this anymore. You're in the therapist's office with me...remember? It's okay."

"Okay..." Tony felt a little relieved for a moment. "Okay, J man, he's all yours..." Tim's hand suddenly clamped onto his friend's, and Tony's face paled as his panic was reignited.

"McGee, open your eyes," Tony told him. "Look around you. You're not in that elevator anymore. You're right here with me. You're safe." Tim opened his eyes and tried desperately to find something...the lamp.

"Try to take deep breaths, Tim," Aiden said, "Concentrate on breathing in and out. Let it help you to calm down." He could barely hear the man's voice, but tried to comply anyway. And as he began the deep breathing, the lamp came more into focus, and he became more aware of Tony's hand in his. More aware of the tears on his face, his free hand swiped them away.

"Sorry," he apologized as he became lucid.

"This is what you're here for, Tim," Aiden assured him. "You were able to regain some control over your thoughts. That's a step in the right direction." McGee realized he was still holding Tony's hand, and released it; embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

"Sorry, Tony...I..." he looked at him and noticed the worry in his eyes, "I don't wanna put you through all of this..."

"Look, Tim," Tony said, trying to banish any look of fear from his face, "I told you before, it's okay. If me being there helps you somehow, then I'll be there."

"But it's not fair to you," Tim retorted sternly as his jaw cocked slightly. "It's not fair that all this...stuff... gets thrown into your head. I'm barely holding on when this stuff comes back to me," his voice cracked as he spoke. "I don't want it to haunt you too." Tony's brow furrowed and he shook his head, trying to find the words to respond.

"What happened to _you _isn't fair," he told him. "McGee, I cant..." he stopped and blinked as his eyes began to sting, "I can't go back and change what happened. If I could, I would...in a heartbeat."

"I know," Tim said.

"But if I can help you now, I want to. Please, let me..."

"Why? Why do you wanna help me? I know this is affecting you..." his eyes filled with unshed tears. Tony looked at him with absolute clarity.

"I already said why...'cause you're my brother." Tim looked down a little from his friend's eyes as the tears fell from his own. Aiden remained silent, not wanting to disturb or distract from the moment. A long silence was broken with two words.

"Thank you," Tim whispered. Then he looked down at the floor and wiped at his face again. "I have to use the bathroom," he stood from the couch.

"Across the hall," Aiden told him. Tim nodded in acknowledgment and left the room, closed the door behind him. Aiden looked at Tony. "That was very admirable," he told him. Tony looked at the man, without a response. "Did you want to discuss what your girlfriend told you?"

"We talked about it, actually. She told me I never hurt her," his focus wandered slightly.

"Do you not believe her?" Aiden asked, and Tony eyes snapped back up at him.

"Why shouldn't I?"

"I didn't say you shouldn't. I was asking if you do." Tony's eyes narrowed at him as he pondered the question.

"I trust her," he said finally.

"But you're not sure you trust yourself," Aiden surmised. Tony clenched his jaw and swallowed. "I think, by mistrusting yourself, you're, in a way, mistrusting _her_... Are you afraid to be with her now?" his words were like a punch to the gut. Tony felt his eyes begin to sting again.

"What is this, an interrogation?" he smirked.

"You know how I work, Tony," Aiden returned the smirk. "I'm just making you aware of questions you may not even realize you're asking yourself." Tony's smirk faded and he let out a shaky breath from his nose.

"What do I do?" he asked.

"You know I can't give you an answer to that-"

"What would you do if you were me?" he interjected. Aiden took a breath before answering.

"If it were me...I'd trust her. I wouldn't make her feel like she was wrong to tell me." Tony looked down, scratching his head as the statement sunk in.

"Should I...wait out here?" They looked over at the door to see McGee who'd started to come back in.

"No, come in," Tony was glad for the distraction. Tim closed the door and made his way back to the couch, trying to understand what he'd overheard Tony and Aiden discussing.

"Tim," Aiden started, "I'm going to prescribe you something that might assist in keeping your stress-level down and possibly lower the risk for sudden-onset flashbacks. It won't stop them. It's very important that you understand that. But in combination with what we practiced here today, it should make it much easier."

"What is it called?" Tim asked.

"Lorazepam," he told him. "I'll start you out with a lower dose, and we'll see how it works for you. Then I'd like to see you again in a few days," he looked to him for a reply. With slight indecision furrowing his brow, Tim nodded.

* * *

Tony started the car as Tim slipped on his seat belt. "So, what'd you think of Aiden?" he asked as he pulled out into the parking lot.

"Not really sure. Guess he's okay," he replied.

"He's a little blunt sometimes," he squinted as he pulled out onto the road. McGee was silent for a moment.

"I feel like I should tell you...," he began, "I kinda...overheard what you and he were talking about when I came back from the bathroom," he glanced at Tony, who was now desperately trying not to show his sudden discomfort.

"In light of the fact that you've been spilling your guts over the last couple days, I'll refrain from being upset about your eavesdropping."

"In the same light, I think you should spill a little more about what...or should I say _who_ you were talking about," Tim pried, noting the clenching of Tony's jaw. "I think I already know who." Tony glanced at him.

"How would you know that, Probie?"

"Well, because if you were talking about what I think you were talking about, it's because she told me happened."

"Who told you what happened?" he glanced at him again, then back to the road.

"I can't tell you that if I don't know for sure who you're talking about."

"I'm starting to get confused, McGee," he said with frustration, "And slightly aggravated, if I might add."

"You and Ziva are together, aren't you," Tim looked at him.

"Did she tell you that?" Tony's eyes widened, fixed on the road.

"No," he said simply.

"Then what'd she tell you?" he asked quietly. Tim looked down at the dashboard, reluctant to answer out loud. "Actually, nevermind. I think I already know the answer to that. In fact, that's the only reason she decided to tell me." Tim looked at him again with a furrowed brow.

"You didn't know before this happened?" he asked. Tony shook his head lightly. They were both silent for a long moment. "Okay," Tim finally said, "I think I understand what you were talking about, then... You wanna talk about it?"

Tony reached back with his left hand and scratched his head. He didn't want to talk about it again. But it wouldn't be fair to withhold what he had on his mind, when all he'd been asking of Tim was to spill his thoughts for the past couple of days. "I think I figured it out already," he said, "But..." he sighed, "I dunno...I guess I afraid I'll be so caught up making sure I'm not doing anything to make her uncomfortable, that I won't be able to...ya know..."

"Wow," Tim said, all seriousness on his face. Tony glanced nervously at him for a moment.

"What does that mean, McGoo?" he squinted.

"I just...never thought you'd ever admit something like that."

"Well, I wouldn't. And if you tell anyone...well...just please don't..."

"I wouldn't do that to you," he cocked his head. "Besides, I think you're being stupid."

"What?"

"You know she would kick your ass in a heart beat if anything you ever did made her uncomfortable." Tony smirked at that.

"You're probably right. Guess hearing that from someone who actually knows her, makes it a little more believable." Tim smiled to himself, happy that he could make a small repayment for everything Tony had done for him...

* * *

**Back to life-after-therapy, tomorrow lol ;) **


	12. Chapter 12

**Took longer then usual to get this chapter done, so I made it extra long for ya ;).**

**In case I haven't already done this: DISCLAIMER: I don't own NCIS, but I love to play with them!**

* * *

"Where is everyone?" Tim asked as they entered Gibbs' house.

"Cars are gone," Tony said, shutting the door behind them, "Probably at work."

"Oh...yeah I guess I keep forgetting it's Monday," McGee said as he headed for the kitchen. "You hungry?"

"Kinda," he replied.

"Me too," he opened the fridge as Tony entered the kitchen.

"You're still on liquids, Probie," he ordered.

"Yeah, I know," he said as he fetched one of the nutrition shakes, "I'll be happy with anything that's not broth or applesauce at this point."

"Grab me one of those," Tony said as he sat down at the table.

"You want one of these shakes?" Tim asked with a skeptical brow.

"Hey, I'm not eating a sandwich in front of you, McHungry. That'd just be rude." Tim threw him a shake and sat across from him at the table. "Oh, hey...where's that bottle of stuff we picked up on the way home?" Tim reached into his pocket.

"Right here. Why?"

"Ducky has your meds all sorted out for the day. Lemme put it with the other bottles so we don't forget it later," he took the bottle and set it with the others in the cabinet, then sat back down. As he cracked open the top of the shake, a small grin started to play on his lips. "Mind if I ask you somethin', Probie?"

"By the look on your face, I feel like I should say no."

"You are wise. But I'm gonna ask anyway. What's up with you and Abby?" Tony's grin widened when he saw Tim's cheeks flush red.

"Nothing, Tony," he attempted to dodge the question.

"That face isn't 'nothing'. C'mon, man. I told you about me an' Ziva."

"Technically, I figured that out myself," he corrected.

"Well I figured this out myself too. And your face confirmed it."

"You can't confirm anything by my face!" he argued. "That wouldn't be admissible in court..."

"Okay, maybe not. But are you denying it?" Tim cursed himself under his breath as he felt himself blush again. "There's no way you're winning in the courtroom where Tony DiNozzo presides."

"Seriously, though, nothing's happened yet," he said.

"Yet? So, you're saying....what now?" Tim rolled his eyes, knowing there was no way out of this conversation; no one around to smack Tony in the back of the head to get him to drop it.

"She told me she loved me," he couldn't help but crack a small smile. "She said she _loves me_ loves me, to be exact."

"When did she tell you?" Tony's face was more of interest, then the usual 'prying for gossip' face he would usually wear in this situation.

"Yesterday."

"Yesterday...like before she slept with you?" he smirked and took a sip of his shake.

"She fell asleep with me!" his eyes widened in defense. "That's not the same thing. But yeah."

"Congratulations, Probie," he smirked and held his shake up to cheers; Tim tapped his bottle against Tony's, "You're totally screwed," he smiled.

"You're probably right," he smirked, then took a sip of his shake.

* * *

Ziva sat at her desk, busily filling out some case file paperwork, when her cell chirped, indicating she'd received a message. She glanced over at Gibbs' desk, which was vacant, before looking at her phone.

_Got a case?_ The text read. It was from Tony.

_I could only wish._ She replied. _How was the session this morning?_

_ McGee got a lot accomplished. _

_ Good. If we are still without a case, I will be coming by there for lunch. Want me to pick up anything for you?_

_ Gibbs coming with you?_

_ No. He asked me to check in on the two of you._

_ Why does the sitter need to be checked in on? Nevermind, don't answer that. I'll see you when you get here. Don't need anything picked up._

_ Are you okay?_

_ Yes. Just miss you. _Ziva smiled when she read that.

_I love you. See you soon._

_ Love you too._

* * *

"Ducky, I got a question for ya," Tony said into his cell.

_"What is it, Tony?"_

"The therapist prescribed McGee something called Lorazepam, and the bottle says, 'Take as needed for anxiety'. I was thinkin', since he's due for pain killers, and they usually knock him out, if it'd be okay for him to take one of these, too. Maybe it'll give him a better chance of having a more peaceful sleep... But is it safe to take with the pain killers?"

_"It shouldn't have any interactions. And I think that's a good idea, Anthony. Has he eaten anything?"_

"Yeah, we had a shake when we got home around 9:15, and gave him some applesauce maybe ten minutes ago."

_"Good. I'm glad he's accepting more than usual. Go ahead and give him both meds, and call me if you feel like you have any more concerns."_

"Thanks, Ducky," he ended the call and brought the meds to the guest room where McGee was in the middle of watching a movie. "He said you can take both," Tony told him. Tim looked over in his direction.

"It's been a while since I've seen _Austin Powers_," he said, "It's just as funny as it was ten years ago."

"That's why it's a classic, Probie," Tony handed him the pills. "Mind if I watch the rest of it with ya?"

"It's your movie, Tony. Course you can."

"Groovy, Baby," Tony said in his best impression of Powers. Tim smirked after swallowing the pills. "So who's your favorite character?" Tony asked as he plopped down on the bed with his back against the head board.

"It's hard to choose when most of the characters are the same person," Tim cocked his head as he watched the screen.

"Well, who can you most identify with, then?" Tim thought about it for a moment.

"I can't say that I do...but I can guess who _you_ would pick," he smirked in Tony's direction.

"Scot," Tony said. Tim looked at him in question.

"Dr. Evil's son? Why?"

"Powerful yet evil father who doesn't approve of his son's choice to not follow in his footsteps. Plus Scot grew up without him around, so it seems fitting." Tim's smirk faded, even though Tony still had an amused look on his face as he watched the screen.

"That's horrible, Tony," he said. Tony glanced at him.

"Nah, Dr. Evil cares more about Scot then he lets on," he looked back at the screen.

"I'm not talkin' about Scot. Talkin' about you." Tony glanced over at him again.

"Hey, my father isn't part of my life anymore. Never really was. But I've got family right here, and that makes everything okay," he said, then looked back to the screen.

"Yeah, ya do," Tim said, "But that doesn't make what he did, right. It was horrible of him to send you away like that. Especially when you needed him the most." Tony looked down at his lap.

"I know that, McGee," he said. "But it's all behind me now."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's okay, Probie," he said patting his shoulder. "We're family. We're allowed to bring up crappy memories, remember?" he smirked, and noticed Tim looked tired. "Pain killers kickin' in?"

"Think so," he yawned.

"Kay, I'll leave ya alone. Ziva should be by any minute anyway," he shifted off the bed.

"She taking over so you can go in?"

"No, just stopping in to check up on us on her lunch break."

"That's nice," Tim said as he shifted down on the bed to get more comfortable.

"You want me to shut this off?" Tony asked.

"Nah, leave it. The noise helps me sleep better, believe it or not."

"I believe it. Sweet dreams, McGee," he said as he left the room and quietly shut the door. His attention went to the front door as he heard it opening.

"Hey," Ziva said as she entered with a small white bag, and closed the door behind her. He smiled as he walked toward her. "Is McGee asleep?" she asked. He nodded as he approached her. As he closed the space between them, he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately. Once their mouths separated, she looked at him with a smile. "What has you in such a good mood?"

"You," he smiled as his hand came up to tuck a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. "Always you," he kissed her again and put his hands around her, pulling her against him. Both of them breathless, Tony pulled his face slightly away, "How long till you have to be back?" he asked in barely a whisper as his mouth traveled over to her ear.

"Maybe another forty-five minutes," she said as her eyes fluttered closed.

"Perfect," he said as she felt herself being pushed back against the door. She dropped the bag and her hands roamed around his chest; she felt his hands under her shirt against the skin on her lower back. He thrust his hips against her and she felt his erection through his pants and moaned.

"We should go upstairs," she said between kisses.

"Good idea," he said, and picked her up so she could straddle her legs around him as he carried her. Her eyes were closed the whole way up the stairs as he kissed and nibbled her jawline. The only moment she became aware they were at their destination, was when he lowered her down on the bed. He looked into her eyes as she lay there. She smiled up at him.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked. He smiled.

"How beautiful you are," he told her. Her hand went to his cheek.

"I love you," she said, and lifted her head to kiss him again. He settled himself down over her, supporting his upper body with his elbows on either side of her.

"I love you more," he said as his hands played through her hair.

"Prove it," she said as she thrust her hips up against him, causing him to groan. His mouth crushed back down onto hers as she pulled the fabric of his shirt up on his torso.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered against her ear before taking the lobe into his mouth.

"Mmm...I am fairly certain we both want the same thing," she smiled. She felt him smile against her neck. "Since we have been together, I do not believe we have gone this many days without doing this."

"I know," he said as he pushed himself up from her, and began pulling up her shirt.

"It was very frustrating when you did not come up here last night," she pinched him before pulling his shirt over his head. He grinned as she sat up to do so, and pulled her shirt over her head as well.

"You started it," he smirked. She scooted back on the bed and began to unbutton her pants.

"Well, now you can finish it," she returned the smirk as she quickly shed her pants and undies in one movement. Tony swallowed and found himself unfastening his own pants as she moved back toward him. She tugged them down for him as her mouth crushed against his. His erection sprang free from his boxers and Ziva moved her body closer to his as they stood on their knees before each other.

Tony groaned as he felt his shaft glide along her slick folds; teasing him. His hands reached around to grab her behind and press her harder against him. Then he felt himself being lead forward, and he opened his eyes as he walked on his knees to follow her until her back was against the head board. "What are we doing?" he asked; his head heavy with lust.

"I would think that would be obvious," she replied. He smiled with a small laugh, then she reached back and slid his hands down to the tops of her thighs. "You will have to help hold me up," she smirked, and he realized what she was proposing. If it was possible, he grew even harder. His lips met hers again as he felt her shift her back flat against the board and bring her leg up around his waist.

Tony picked up her other leg and wrapped it around him as well, and she guided him to her entrance. He swallowed, suddenly hesitating as he searched her eyes. Her steady hold on his shoulders changed as she brought one of her hands to his cheek, trying to reassure him.

"Tony," she breathed. "I want you..." her hand snaked down between them again and stroked his length. And he groaned from deep in his throat as her heel nudged him forward. His hips thrust forward, almost involuntarily, and he entered her fully.

"Oh god...Ziva," his face went to her shoulder as the sensation overwhelmed him. He pulled out almost fully before reentering her, and was rewarded with a pleasurable moan from Ziva, that shot right to his groin. He repeated it again, slowly, and brought his face in front of her so he could see hers.

"Faster..." she barely whispered, and he complied, resting his forehead against hers as he sped up his administrations. "Mmm..." she moaned and it was like electricity to him.

"Zi..." his breath was labored now, as was hers.

"Harder," she said a bit louder, and as if his body was activated by verbal command, he complied. Their bodies made a light slapping sound as he slammed into her over and over.

"Zi, I...I gotta stop-"

"No! Please, Tony," she breathed, "So close..."

"Oh god...Zi, I'm gonna..."

"Oh!" He felt Ziva's inner walls squeeze and spasm around him as she threw her head back against the wall. Only a few thrusts later, he was following her...burying his face in her neck to muffle his cries of ecstasy...

Only the sound of them catching their breath could be heard now as they stilled. Tony didn't return from the stars until he felt her begin to drop her legs. He pulled back and helped her lower back down to the bed. He positioned himself to lay beside her as she studied his face.

"That was worth the wait," she said as she smiled.

"I'm just sorry it was over so fast," he replied.

"It does not matter how quickly it is over, as long as both parties are fully satisfied," she leaned over to kiss him and felt him smile against her lips.

The moment was broken when her cell began to ring. "I have to get that," she said, though he held her still. She looked sternly at him and playfully swatted his bare shoulder. "It could be Gibbs," she squinted and reached over onto the floor to pull her phone from the pocket of her pants. "David," she answered. She was silent as she listened to the voice on the other end. "I'll be there in fifteen," she said and ended the call.

Turning back to Tony, she gave him a quick kiss. "We have a case. I have to take a very quick shower and get over there," she kissed him once more and rolled off of the bed, gathering her clothes and making quick pace to the bathroom. Tony pushed himself off the bed.

"I'm gonna throw these sheets into the wash," he said before hearing the shower cut on. He grinned as he stripped the bed...

* * *

"Sorry, Gibbs," Ziva said as she hurried through the police tape over to her boss. "Traffic."

"Need you to snap, bag n' tag," he told her. She nodded in acknowledgment without question. She knew there would be a heavier workload in store, with two agents out. "Not much to collect, though. I gotta go talk to the witness. How's McGee and DiNozzo?" he asked.

"McGee was sleeping the entire time I was there. I think they are both doing well," she said as she snapped a picture of the numbered evidence and bagged it.

"He say anything about their session?"

"Actually, no. I didn't think to ask," she continued her work. Gibbs squinted as he looked her over.

"You take a shower on your lunch break?" he asked. Though she felt like a child who'd been caught with their hand in the cookie jar, her trained ability to hide her emotions came in handy in the moment. She didn't skip a beat in her work.

"Is there not a witness you are supposed to be interviewing?" she asked, glancing to him for a moment. He smirked at her then, and she returned a small smirk before he turned to walk over to the witness.

* * *

Tony finished tucking in the cleaned flat sheet, over the cleaned fitted one. Satisfied with his little cover-up, he stepped back and took a breath, then lazily draped the blanket over the bed. No sense in making it look _too_ perfect. Then, certainly Gibbs would come to conclusions he'd rather he not.

He took another visual sweep of them room, then peeked into the bathroom to make sure nothing was too out of place. And then he heard a crash from downstairs...a sudden and familiar burn began in his chest as he tore out of the room and down the stairs. "McGee?!" he yelled and ran to the guestroom.

"In the kitchen," he heard Tim say, and he quickly rounded the corner toward him. "Sorry, I dropped the carafe..." he looked a bit panicked. Tony looked down at the floor at the broken glass and coffee mixture.

"Oh man...Probie, Boss is gonna kill us," he said as he grabbed a roll of paper towels and knelt down to start sopping up the mess. He realized then, that McGee was barefoot. "You okay?" he asked.

"Coffee was pretty hot," Tim answered nonchalantly. "But I'm okay." Tony looked closer at the tops of his feet, noticing that one was extremely red.

"Damnit, McGee...your foot is burnt," he threw the wet paper towels into the trash and walked around the table to assist Tim to a chair. "Just sit down and I'll get you some ice for that," he grabbed an icepack from the freezer and laid it gently on his foot.

"It's not that bad, Tony," he insisted.

"Either way, just leave it until I get this cleaned up," he said as he bent down to pick up the larger pieces of glass. "When did you get up, anyway?"

"When the dryer beeped," he replied. "Were you doing laundry?"

"Uh...yeah."

"So ya think Gibbs is really gonna kill us?" he asked more seriously.

"No, he's not, because I'm gonna finish cleaning this up, and then we're gonna go buy a new one."

"We're gonna go to the store?" Tim asked. Tony squinted as he looked up from the floor at McGee.

"Are you high?" he asked. McGee burst out laughing. Tony stood to throw out the remaining glass and walked back over to him. Placing his hand on Tim's forehead, he checked to see if he was running a fever. But he felt cool enough. "Seriously, what's up, man?"

"Nothing," he said as his laughter subsided. Tony looked over at the counter and saw the third door of the organizer slightly opened.

"Did you take another pain killer?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"Is there a problem with me taking just one more?" he smiled.

"Apparently, there is," he said with a worried look on his face.

"So...my happiness is worrying you?"

"This isn't 'happy', McGee. It's delirium. You dropped a scalding pot of coffee on the floor and nearly sliced open your foot in addition to burning it." Tim's smile faded and his face changed to worry.

"I- I'm sorry...I just...had a nightmare and woke up with a stomachache. I made coffee 'cause I didn't wanna fall asleep again..." Tony sat down in the chair next to him.

"Why didn't you call for me? I woulda helped you."

"I should be able to do some damn things for myself, Tony," he said, frustratedly. Then his eyes shifted nervously. "I'm sorry...I don't know why I got angry with you."

"It's okay. I understand," he said as he thought over the situation. "Well, now you're gonna hafta eat something at least," he said as he stood and went to the fridge.

"Can't I have something that's actual food?" he requested.

"Not sure about that, Probie. I'll have to give Ducky a call and see if it's okay. In the meantime, eat this," he plopped a cup of applesauce down on the table in front of his and fetched him a spoon. "Stay..." he held his hand out as if Tim were a puppy, then pulled out his phone and wandered into the living room.

_"Hello, Anthony. Is everything alright?" _Ducky's voice sounded on the other line.

"Yeah...well, actually I'm a little concerned. Seems McGee snuck into the meds and took an extra pain killer. Should I be worried?"

_"One extra won't hurt him, but you should make him eat something."_

"That's the other thing I was calling about. He's asking if he can eat something solid."

_"Well, he's kept the liquids down nicely for the past couple of days. It should be okay to try. But make it something simple. Toast, perhaps."_

"Okay. Sounds easy enough."

_"Do let me know if he doesn't keep it down."_

"Yeah, I'll give you a call if anything happens. Thanks, Ducky. Oh! How's that case going?"

_"I assume you mean the investigation Gibbs and Ziva are working on? Right now, they're interrogating a suspect. They're pretty sure they've got the right man."_

"So, ya figure they'll be there for a couple hours more, at least?"

_"I'm sure. Is everything okay? Do you need a break?"_

"No, everything's fine. I just need to run out and replace Gibbs' broken coffee maker..."

_"Well, I wouldn't advice taking Timothy with you. And you certainly can't leave him by himself right now, with the extra meds in his system."_

"Yeah, I know...but if I don't get it, Gibbs is gonna be pissed, Ducky. It's coffee we're talkin' about here. Don't mess with a Marine's coffee...you know the rule. Don't want Probie getting into trouble." Ducky lightly laughed.

_"I'm nearly finished here in autopsy, so I can go pick one up when I leave here, which will undoubtedly be before Jethro leaves."_

"Really? Ah, great, Ducky, thanks. I appreciate it."

_"Not a problem, Tony. I'll see you in a couple of hours." _The call ended, and Tony walked back into the kitchen.

"Good news, Probie! You can have toast!" he over-emphasized the excitement.

"Sweet," McGee smiled as he pushed the applesauce cup aside.

* * *

Ducky entered the house nearing eight o'clock, carrying a new coffee pot, identical to Gibbs' broken one. As he arrived in the kitchen, he saw Tony and Tim engaged in a game of Battleship.

"How could you possibly have hit and sunk all of my ships and only miss eight times?" Tony argued. Tim grinned.

"Mathematical and strategic process of elimination."

"Don't give me that crap, McGee. You're cheating," he turned around, "Is there a mirror behind me somewhere? Oh, hey, Ducky."

"Hello, lads," he smiled as he opened the box.

"Oh great," Tony stood and walked to his side, "You found the same one. How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it, Anthony. Seems we only need the carafe?"

"Yeah," McGee said as he pulled the pegs out of the board, "Sorry about that."

"No harm, no foul," Ducky said as he placed the new coffee maker on the counter and slipped the old one into the box. "Are you through with your game?" he asked.

"I am," Tony said.

"I'm up for another game, if you wanna play?" Tim offered Ducky.

"Let me start a pot of coffee, and then I'll join you."

"You guys mind if I go for a run?" Tony asked. "Feel like I need to stretch my legs a bit."

"Go ahead," Ducky said. "On your way out, you should stick this box in the trunk of your car."

"Right. Thanks again, Ducky. Play nice, McCheater," Tony pointed at the agent. Tim squinted at him.

"I didn't cheat, Tony."

"Yeah, yeah," he replied as he left the room with the box. "I'll be back in an hour!"

"So, Timothy," Ducky said as he sat down at the table. "Tell me, how was your day?"

* * *

Gibbs and Abby arrived at the house about an hour later; both being quiet as they were unsure if Tim would be sleeping or not. But as they entered, they heard Ducky saying goodnight, and saw him come out of the guest room, closing the door behind him.

"Hey, Duck," Gibbs said, setting his keys down on the coffee table. "How's he doin'?"

"Quite well, Jethro," he replied quietly as he made his way into the living room. "He's taken to solid food rather nicely. He had toast earlier on in the day, and some vegetable soup just a while ago."

"Where's Tony?" he asked after looking around.

"He went for a run," he replied as he took a seat in the armchair and peeked at his watch. "He should be back any minute." Gibbs nodded in acknowledgment.

"Well, I'm gonna hit the hay. I'll take the late shift again. Abs, you good to stay up a while?"

"Sure," she said. "Ducky, you don't have to stay if you wanna head home."

"I'll be alright to keep you company for a little longer, Abigail. Where's Ziva?"

"Boss man sent her home. She's gonna be staying with Tim tomorrow so Tony can come to work."

* * *

Tony had come home from his run not much later, taken a shower, and passed out on the couch after eating a sandwich Ducky made for him. Ducky went home around midnight, and Abby was playing a first-person-shooter game on Tim's laptop at the kitchen table, with the volume turned down low.

It was a relatively peaceful night with no interruptions. It wasn't until around three in the morning that she began to yawn uncontrollably, and shut down the computer. She smirked at Tony's sleeping form as she passed him and went up the stairs towards Gibbs' room to wake him.

"Started the coffee for you," she whispered as he woke.

"Thanks, Abby," he rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he pulled himself out of bed. "G'night," he kissed her cheek and made his way down the stairs, going straight for the coffee maker. Once poured, he brought his mug with him to the table, glancing out to the living room where Tony was splayed out over like couch like some kind of cartoon character; on his stomach, one arm tucked under himself somewhere, and the other hanging off the side. He couldn't help but to smirk.

Gibbs wished, however, that he'd had a chance to talk more about the therapy session Tony and Tim had. But it seemed he'd have to settle for waiting until tomorrow. He looked down at his mug before taking another sip, and his eye caught the Battleship game box on the table. Tony must have found it in the basement. It was Kelly's; a memory played in his head of when he last played the game with his daughter.

His attention was pulled away suddenly by movement from the corner of his eye. Gibbs turned his head back to the sleeping agent who began to shift around slightly on the couch. Tony's face twitched and furrowed; his eyelids showing the rapid movement of his eyes beneath them...

*~.~*

_Tony stood frozen in the elevator he'd seen only in photographs before. In front of him, McGee was shoved into the corner by two men... Tim was afraid... Tony wanted desperately to attack those men-- stop them from doing what they were about to do. But Tony couldn't move..._

_ "We should wait until we get him back to his room," one of them said._

_ "No way. This'll be much more fun..."_

_ No no no...please... Tony stood by, helpless, as they cut through Tim's belt._

_ "Tony, please help me!" he heard McGee say._

_ "I'm trying..." he found he could barely even speak._

_ "Don't worry," the other man said, "You won't remember this anyway..."_

_ "Please!" Tim yelled. The man behind Tim began his brutal attack, and Tony tried to turn away... tried to struggle against whatever power was holding him where he was. Was it fear? "Please make them stop, Tony! Please!"_

_ "Aw, look, Brad. He's crying. So sad... hurry up, I want a go..."_

_ "Oh god please...please stop this," Tony pleaded. "Please stop hurting him! Please!"_

_ "Almost..." the man raping Tim said. Tony thought he'd be sick. McGee was screaming... "Okay...okay, J man. He's all yours..."_

_ "No! Please stop!" Tony yelled as the second man positioned himself behind Tim. McGee screamed again as the man began..._

_ "Tony, make them stop...please...please..."_

_ "McGee, I- I'm sorry..." Tony was in tears now..._

_*~.~*_

Gibbs stood from the table as Tony began openly sobbing in his sleep. "Please...stop hurting him..." Gibbs heard through the sobbing. "Leave him alone...Tim, I-I'm so sorry..."

"Tony," Gibbs was at his side now, shaking him by the shoulder. Tony suddenly shot awake, pushing himself up from the couch, seemingly confused by his surroundings. "You were havin' a nightmare," Gibbs told him. A wave of nausea hit his agent, and Tony took off toward the bathroom...

Gibbs followed him, at first unsure of where he was going. But he heard the familiar heaving, and the sound of vomit hitting the water in the toilet bowl. He waited outside the door for him to finish. When he heard the toilet flush, he pushed open the door to find Tony sitting, backed up against the wall across from the commode. His knees pulled up toward his chest and his head rested on them; hands in his hair on the back of his head.

Gibbs crouched down beside him, "You okay, DiNozzo?" he asked quietly. The sound of Tony's hitched inhaling followed by a breathy, silent cry, caused a pang in his chest. He quietly shut the door and sat down beside him against the wall.

"I was right there..." Tony said through tears. "I was right there and I didn't do anything..."

"It was a dream, Tony," Gibbs tried to reason with him. Tony's hands clenched tighter on his hair.

"All I had to do was move and take them out...and I just stood there!"

"You weren't there," he said more sternly.

"I watched it happen!" Tony's head shot up and looked at his boss; pure anguish in his eyes. "And I did nothing!"

Suddenly, the door was opening, and they both looked over to see Tim standing worriedly in the doorway.

"McGee, I'm sorry," Tony's tears reignited as he hid his face in behind his knees again. Tim looked at Gibbs.

"Boss, can I talk to him alone?" he suggested. Gibbs nodded and stood, hesitantly exiting the bathroom. He stood there, outside he door, listening to his agents. "Tony, listen to me," he began, "You had a bad dream. You weren't there. I told you I shouldn't have called you back in that office. I told you I didn't wanna haunt you with that..."

"Why...how could I have seen everything...everything that happened? I was right there..."

"You weren't there, Tony. You just knew everything that happened. Heard me every time I had a flashback...and knew everything I said, and everything _they_ said. You're mind put that all together and you had a nightmare. That's all, Tony...just a nightmare." There was silence, with the exception of Tony's breathing as he began to calm.

"I'm so sorry...what they did to you, Tim," Tony's voice cracked.

"Not your fault," Tim said. "I'm sorry this is happening to you...I shouldn't have put you through this..."

"Don't say that," Tony said. Gibbs looked into the bathroom now, seeing Tony and Tim standing now, Tony pulled McGee into a hug. "You shouldn't go through this alone. I told you I'd be here for you through this, and I'm not turning back now."

"I'm not letting you do this anymore if you're gonna blame yourself for any of what happened," Tim said. His voice cracked as he continued, "You hear me? There was nothing you could've done."

"Okay," Tony said. "Okay..."

* * *

**tbc tomorrow! r&r pretty plz!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Before I begin this chapter, I wanted to take a moment to thank everyone who consistently reviews—I appreciate your efforts :) Azilee, you are awesome, as I've told you already ;) smartkid37, grs4ever, jgomez921, chelsea1234, cutezipie, magical-archer, and ncischick09, I thank you for your recent feedback! **

* * *

After giving Tony some antacids, and convincing him to take the OTC anxiety meds, Tim insisted that Tony go get some sleep on his guest room bed. Tony fought the idea, not wanting to take away Tim's space. But McGee convinced him that he would be up for a while anyway. Eventually, Tony couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, and gave in.

Shutting the guest room door, quietly, McGee made his way back into the kitchen where Gibbs was sitting at the table. He made his way over to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup. Intentionally taking his time, he put sugar and cream into it, and made his way back to the table to sit across from Gibbs.

Gibbs noticed the uneasy look on Tim's face as he shifted in his chair; fingers playing absentmindedly on the mug in front of him. "Can I ask you somethin'?" Gibbs asked. Tim looked up at him.

"Sure, Boss," he replied.

"You uncomfortable around me?" his brow was slightly furrowed, and Tim could detect the pain behind the question. He shook his head.

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Just seems that way," he replied, then brought his mug to his lips for a sip of his coffee.

"Well, I'm sorry if it does," McGee replied, and began to go over the events of the past few days in his head. Something clicked about Gibbs question, and Tim looked back up at him. "Not uncomfortable around you, Boss. Just don't want you to see me at my worst..."

"I wanna be here for you, too, Tim," he said.

"I know. And I shoulda let you. Tony's been taking everything on himself and look what's happening to him now..." Tim looked down into his mug as his eyes began to sting. "And you _have_ been here for me, Boss," he continued. "You've given up your home, and made sure I've been taken care of and got me out of the hospital," he looked back up at him. "Tony's the one who realized what happened, right when I did...and I guess I was just to afraid — embarrassed and humiliated...to let anyone else into that."

"He knows that," Gibbs told him. "Tony knew this was gonna be hard, but he accepted it without hesitation."

"But I never..." his unshed tears were more obvious now; a hint of anger in his voice, "Never wanted him to have to go through the nightmares..." he looked back down at his mug as his tears began to spill over. "It's too much for him. Too much for me..."

"Then let me take some of that off both of you," Gibbs said. Tim looked up slightly. "Start with tellin' me what happened in your session today," he suggested. Tim looked back down at his mug.

"Can we go outside?" he asked in a small voice. Gibbs narrowed his eyes for a moment, but realized he didn't want to wake Tony. He nodded and they both stood to go out on the deck, closing the door behind them.

The cool air of the early morning darkness was a welcome feeling for Tim. They sat before he began to talk. "The therapist made me aware I've been calling out for Tony during my flashbacks," he told him. "That's when I realized just how bad Tony must have been feeling."

"Did you talk to him about that?"

"I had him come in for the rest of the session, and tried to explain to him...I call out for him because I hear him when he's talking to me. It's more of a plea to make the flashback stop, but he was interpreting it as me asking him to make the incident itself stop." He paused to take a drink of his coffee. "Anyway...so the therapist started asking me all these questions...if I saw Tony in my flashbacks, which I don't. I just hear him. Asked if I could hear the voices of...the Deberohs. Then I started having a flashback right there... I guess because he was asking if I heard them, I started repeating everything I heard them say," he closed his eyes as his head dropped a bit at the memory. "It was like completing a puzzle for Tony...every last piece he needed to have the whole picture in his head. And now I regret it..."

Gibbs watched him with a careful eye. Tim was becoming noticeably more uncomfortable. "It's okay, Tim," he said, "If you don't wanna talk to me, you don't have to. But don't hold back because you feel like I'm gonna think you're weak. I don't think that at all."

"No, Boss...I'm not trying to hold back," he said as he shakily set his coffee down on the small table beside him. "My stomach hurts." Gibbs flinched with realization that his agent needed his pain killer.

"Hold on," he told him as he stood, "I'll grab your meds and some water," he quickly went into the house to retrieve both items, and by the time he came back out and shut the door again, McGee's head was in his hands. "I got your pain killers, McGee," Gibbs said as he crouched beside Tim's chair. But he didn't respond. "You hear me?" he asked. Tim nodded as his hands dropped to his lap.

Gibbs could see the agent's focus was skewed; looking at nothing in particular, as tears spilled down his face. "I can feel it starting," McGee said in barely a whisper.

"Flashback?" Gibbs confirmed, and Tim nodded. "What'd the therapist tell you do when this happens?"

"Find something in the present," he breathed, "Keep telling myself where I am..."

"Look at me," Gibbs said as he shifted himself more in front of his agent, pulling a chair up behind him so he could sit facing him. "McGee," he repeated, but Tim's eyes couldn't focus on him. They began to fill with desperation and anxiety.

Gibbs began to panic, slightly. He stood again, with intentions of getting Tony, but instead, thought of something... He went back into the kitchen to get something, then returned to sit in front of Tim, taking one of his hands. "You feel me take your hand?" he asked him.

"Boss...please make 'em stop..." his voice cracked through his tears.

"Tim, you listen to me," he told him, "You're not in that elevator. You're here with me. You focus on what you feel in your hand, now," he said as he placed an ice cube in Tim's palm and closed his fingers around it. Gibbs watched his face as it twisted and became confused by the sensation. He began to blink rapidly and looked down at his hand where it sat in his boss's.

Tim opened his hand and looked at the ice cube. "Boss?"

"You back with me?" he asked. Tim looked up at him.

"How'd you do that? How'd you know?" Gibbs smirked, relieved if anything.

"Long time ago, I was workin' on my boat. Had some kinda flashback...somethin' completely different, mind you, but it was what it was. Long story, short; hit my hand with my hammer. Pulled me right the hell back to reality." Tim's brow furrowed, but his mouth curled up a bit. "Figured this might be a better option instead of breakin' your hand."

Tim watched his boss take the cube and toss it over into the grass. Then he handed him the meds and water. "Thanks," Tim told him. "Thanks for helping me, and giving Tony a break."

"I know he's takin' this rough, Tim, but that's because he cares about you. And like the rest of us, he doesn't want you to be in pain. Even if that means taking some of it on ourselves..."

"I don't want any of you to be in pain because of me," Tim said. "The only thing making me feel even worse about all of this, is the fact that all of you have had to basically uproot your lives to take care of me."

"We all _want_ to do that, though, Tim. No one's forcing us." McGee didn't want to argue about it. So, he decided not to push the matter further. Gibbs tried to read the expression on his agent's face. "Stomach still hurt?" he asked.

"No," he lied, looking down at his feet. Gibbs watched him as he shifted in the chair, grabbing for his coffee from the side table. "Boss, did you get those pills from the bottle or the organizer?" Tim asked, looking up at him again.

"Organizer," he replied. "You were due for them anyway."

"There's supposed to be another one in there. A small, round, white one. Wasn't it there?"

"Wasn't sure what it was," he said.

"Something the therapist prescribed."

"You want me to get it?"

"If you wouldn't mind...I appreciate it," he said as Gibbs stood. Truth was, he wouldn't be able to get up and get it himself. He was in too much pain. Gibbs realized that when he returned to the deck with the pill. Tim was hunched over and his face had slightly paled.

"Why'd you tell me you stopped hurtin'?" he asked as he sat down in front of him.

"Sorry," he said as he took the pill from him, "Didn't want you worrying."

"I'd rather be worried, than lied to, McGee."

"I'm sorry, Boss..." he chewed the pill as he hunched further forward. "Won't happen again."

"We should get you inside," he said.

"No, please...just let me be," he said as he closed his eyes and pulled his free arm over his torso. "The cold is kinda helping a little," he added. Gibbs couldn't help but be concerned about him, the way he was looking right now.

"Think I should call Duck?" he asked.

"Really, Boss, I'll be fine... This's happened several times the past few days. It's just usually combined with a flashback. I'm actually relieved this is all it is..." he picked the mug up towards his mouth to wash down the bits of pill that was left lingering in his teeth, but his hand shook and lost its grip on the handle. It fell with a clunk, spilling the contents onto the deck. "Damnit, I'm sorry," he said through gritted teeth.

"It's okay. Just coffee," he said, bending over to pick it up. He set it upright on the deck and reached up to feel Tim's forehead. He was a little warm, but not feverish. His hand moved to scruff the agent's hair. "Sure there's nothin' I can do?" he asked.

"Just stay here," he said in barely a whisper. "Just for a little while..." Gibbs was surprised by his words. Touched, actually. He'd thought, up until that point, that Tim had merely been trying to make him feel better by saying he wasn't making him uncomfortable.

Gibbs moved his chair to McGee's side and sat again, putting a hand high on his back, like he'd seen Tony do the night before. "Stay as long as you want me to," he said. Tim was grateful, but said nothing else for a few long minutes. That's when Gibbs felt the agent's breathing become more steady.

"Can I ask you something?" Tim said as he tested coming out of the hunched position.

"Depends what it's about," Gibbs smirked, gently pulling his hand from his back.

"I understand if you don't wanna answer. It's personal," he said as he laid back on the chair and turned his head to look at his boss. Gibbs waited. "You said you had a flashback when you were working on your boat. What made it start?"

Gibbs looked down at his lap as he thought back. Corner of his mouth turned up slightly as he cocked his head. "Never really figured that out," he told him as he looked over at him. But his smile was short lived. "It was a little after Kate was killed. Felt like I was back up there on the rooftop. Watched the bullet catch her in the forehead...blood..." Gibbs' hand come up and motioned slightly around his face, "Sprayed over Tony's face..." his focus seemed to wander a bit. "Then I hit my hand," he smirked, nervously at Tim.

"Think Tony ever thinks about that anymore?" Tim asked with sympathy in his voice. Gibbs glanced down for just a moment.

"Walked into the mens room that day when we got back to the office," he said. "Tony was...washin' the blood off over the sink. Never told him I saw him, but he was pretty broken up," he recalled the agent's silent tears coming from clamped eyes; trying desperately to remain quiet through his personal agony. And Gibbs had turned around and walked out...

When Gibbs returned from that memory, his eyes refocused on Tim's. The agent's eyes were getting drowsy, though still showing concern for what his team had gone through that day with Kate.

"Tired?" Gibbs asked. Tim blinked.

"I've been sleeping on and off all day, every day for the past few days, Boss. Don't really wanna go to sleep. Pain killers are just makin' me drowsy." Gibbs understood, and cocked his head.

"Well, I can get you some more coffee, if you think you can hold onto it this time?"

"That'd be great, Boss. Thanks."

Gibbs picked up the old mug and brought it to the kitchen, setting it in the sink. He fetched a new mug, first pouring himself some, then Tim. He guessed as to how much sugar and milk to put into McGee's, then headed back to the deck. A grin painted his face when he saw Tim fast asleep already.

He went back into the house, setting both cups down on the table, and headed into the guest room quietly. Tony cracked an eye open when he woke from the movement in the room.

"Everything okay, Boss?" he asked.

"Yeah. Just grabbin' something. Go back to sleep. We gotta be at work in a few hours," he smirked as he grabbed two throws. Tony laid his head back down, curling up on his side and covering his head with the blanket.

Gibbs closed the door, quietly, and made his way out to the deck again. He threw one of the blankets over Tim, then sat down and covered up himself with the other. The air was crisp, but it was relaxing. He looked up to the stars, saying a silent prayer for his agents. Especially for Tim; that he'd be able to come back from all of this...

* * *

Gibbs felt a hand on his shoulder and jolted awake to see Ziva standing over him. "Did you two fall asleep out here?" she asked.

"What time is it?"

"Five thirty," she replied. "Where is Tony?"

"Probably still asleep," he answered as he stood from the chair, still unaware of when, exactly, he'd fallen asleep. "He's in Tim's room. Get him up, will ya?" She nodded and he went into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee. A few moments later, he heard Tony come out of the room.

"Mornin', Boss," he said with a yawn as he stretched, using the door frame as an anchor. He glanced out to the deck. "He been sleepin' out there all night?"

"Couple hours," he replied.

"I'm gonna go grab a shower," he said, and disappeared around the corner. Ziva walked the rest of the way into the kitchen, looking over the medication.

"Is this everything he needs for the day?" she asked.

"Yeah. Be sure to give them to him on time. If he's sleepin', wake him up. Pain triggers the flashbacks." She nodded with a slightly furrowed brow. "If he does start to have one," he turned to her, "You gotta talk to him. Get a piece of ice from the freezer and put it in his hand. Tell him to concentrate on how that feels. Seems to have worked for him last time," he noted the concern in her face. "You up to this, Ziva?"

She nodded, "Yes."

"If anything happens, you call me." She nodded again. He examined her face for a moment. "He can eat solid food now. Plenty of stuff in the fridge," he turned back to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup.

* * *

"How'd everything go last night?" Tony asked as the drove to work in Gibbs' car.

"Not too bad," he said after a moment. "He had another flashback." Tony's head shot over to look at him.

"Why didn't you come get me?" he asked, as calmly as he could.

"I would have, if I couldn't have helped him myself," he glanced briefly at him.

"So, what happened?"

"He told me about your session. 'Bout how to hold on to something in the present."

"Did he do that?"

"He tried," he explained. "Then I thought of somethin'. Put some ice in his hand and told him to use that feeling to come back. It worked."

"Well...that's really good. That's...great," he grinned. "So he was good after that?" Gibbs squinted at the road for a moment, and Tony's grin faded as he waited for a reply.

"How often did his stomach bug him yesterday?" he asked.

"I gave him his meds on time," he said as his head turned forward. "But he got up and took another one on his own. Said it still hurt."

"He was hurtin' pretty bad last night," he told him. "Had me concerned for a while, but he said it was always like that."

"You think it's normal for him to be in so much pain still?" Tony searched the air in front of him.

"Don't know. But I'm gonna talk to Ducky when we get there."

* * *

**Still writing, just wanted to get something up before midnight today ;). I think all this hot weather is dragging my thought-process down...lol**


	14. Chapter 14

"I understand your concern for Timothy," Ducky said to Tony and Gibbs as he closed a drawer in the autopsy fridge. "But it's only been days since the surgery, and without fever, it's not an infection. After the severity of the attack he was put through, it's not a surprise that he's in this kind of pain. In fact, the flashbacks themselves, may be intensifying it."

"So what..." Tony queried, "We just keep loading him down with pain killers? Is that even healthy?"

"He has an appointment tomorrow, to follow up from the surgery. I'll be taking him, and I'll be sure to discuss this with the doctor. Meanwhile, I suggest you allow the capable hands of Miss David to do the worrying over him."

* * *

Ziva was washing dishes when Gibbs and Tony came in close to nine. After hanging his jacket, Tony made his way to the kitchen with Gibbs. "How was your day?" Tony gave her a small smile. She glanced at them both, giving a smile in return.

"McGee did very well," she said. "He ate most of every meal, and has not complained of any pain all day. All of his meds were taken on time, as you asked, Gibbs," she turned off the tap and dried her hands.

"No flashbacks?" Gibbs asked, quietly.

"I do not think so," she said. "He slept most of the day, with the exception of my waking him for meds and meals. We watched a movie, but he fell asleep within the first half."

"He sleeping now?" Tony asked.

"He said he wanted to take a nice long shower. He has been in there about twenty minutes now." Gibbs nodded and walked into the living room. "Is Abby still working?" she asked Tony.

"Boss sent her home for the night. She's gonna stay here with him first half of tomorrow and go with Ducky to McGee's appointment. Then Gibbs is gonna swap out."

"I guess that means you have night shift," she smirked.

"Which is why I'm gonna grab a bite to eat, then crash for a while before Gibbs goes to bed. Think you can do me a favor?"

"Pick up some clean clothes from your place?" she guessed.

"You know me well," he grinned as chanced a chaste kiss before heading to the fridge.

"I need to grab some clothes as well. Call me if you need anything else while I am out," she grabbed her keys and headed out.

Tony entered the living room with a nutrition shake and plopped down onto the armchair across from Gibbs, who sat on the couch.

"You still drinkin' those things?" Gibbs gave him a questioning look.

"They're actually not that bad, Boss," Tony said as he cracked open the top. "They grow on you. Besides, McGee can eat normal food now. I'm sure he's happy to share these." Gibbs smirked at that, and his eyes seemed to focus elsewhere. After taking a long sip of the shake, Tony noticed his boss's distraction. "What's that look, Boss?" he asked. Gibbs looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"What look, DiNozzo?"

"That look ya get when you're about to follow your gut." Gibbs cocked his head.

"Follow my gut about what?"

"How should I know? That's why I'm askin'."

"Well that's not what I'm doin'," he defended, then his eyes squinted as he looked somewhere in the air between them.

"_That_ look!" Tony said, sitting forward in his seat. Gibbs looked at him again in question. "That's the look, Boss. What're ya thinkin'?" Gibbs seemed agitated by the question, but he calmed himself.

"Just feel like I'm forgetting something."

"Like ya left something at the office?" he asked. Gibbs shook his head and pushed himself up off the couch, heading for the kitchen. Tony stood and followed him out of curiosity. He leaned against the doorway, taking another sip of the shake as he watched Gibbs walk up to the pill organizer. All the doors were open and the separated container slots, empty.

Gibbs glanced to Tony, "Forgot to ask Duck what to put where," he said as he pulled out his phone, dialing the M.E. As it rang, he opened the cabinet where the prescription bottles had been, last he'd seen them. "Hey, Duck," he said when Ducky picked up. "Where'd you put McGee's meds?"

_"Back into the cabinet, Jethro. Are they not there?"_

"You're sure?" he asked.

_"Yes. Is everything alright?"_ Gibbs ended the call and turned around in a state of panic. He met Tony's eyes as his agent suddenly seemed to come to a similar conclusion. Tony dropped the shake into the trash and followed Gibbs toward the guest room. They burst through the door; McGee no where in sight. But both pairs of eyes went to the bathroom door when they heard the shower still running. The door was slightly cracked open and Tony approached it first.

"McGee?" he called, but received no answer. He glanced at Gibbs, then turned back to the door as he gently pushed it open. "Oh my god, Tim..." a feeling of doom spread through his entire body at the sight of his partner on the floor. McGee lay clad, in just his boxers, obviously worn in the shower before he'd come out and fallen to the floor. His skin was a sickly shade of white, and it struck both Tony and Gibbs with a pang of fear that shot straight through their chests.

Tony went to him immediately, feeling for a pulse with a silent prayer playing in his mind. He let go of a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, when he found the strong beat beneath his fingers. But he turned to his boss, who was already holding his cell to his ear. "He's burning up, Boss," he said before turning back to Tim and lifting his surprisingly light body from the floor. Gibbs backed out as he spoke to the paramedics on the phone, allowing Tony to get him out of the bathroom and onto the bed.

After giving them the address, he shut his phone and stuffed it into his pocket as he stepped back into the bathroom. He turned off the shower, then looked around the room, finding both pills bottles on the counter; the top to the pain killers, lying on the counter beside it. Gibbs swallowed, hoping he wouldn't find what he feared...

He picked them both up, tipping each on their side to examine the amount. Slightly relieved that they seemed mostly full, he stepped back into the room with both bottles still in hand. Tony had wrapped the blanket securely around Tim, trying to talk to him.

"Tony," Gibbs said as he approached the bed.

"What's wrong with him? Did he take pills?" he asked, his voice cracking with fear.

"Pain killers were left open. Doesn't seem like many are missing."

"Thirty-six," Tony said as his eyes searched Tim's face.

"What?"

"There were thirty-six left after Ducky filled the organizer," he told him. Gibbs decided not to question how he knew that just yet. Instead, he turned around and spilled the remaining pain pills onto the dresser-top and began counting.

"Thirty," he said when he was done.

"Tim, wake up," Tony shook his shoulders as his voice cracked with his efforts. "Come on, Probie...you gotta talk to me..." Gibbs swallowed. He wasn't sure what had happened, but was dumbfounded that it happened on Ziva's watch. He picked up his phone again and stepped out of the room, making his way toward the front door as he waited for her to pick up.

_"David."_

"Ziva, was McGee left alone at any point today?" he asked.

_"Of course not, Gibbs. Why? What has happened?"_

"I need to know how he got his script bottles."

_"I- I never left him alone when he was out of his room, the entire time...except when I used the bathroom. Right after breakfast. Gibbs, what happened?" _she sounded panicked now.

"Not sure yet," he ended the call and dialed Ducky's number again, opening the front door for when the paramedics would arrive.

_"Jethro, why did you hang up? Is something the matter?"_

"Duck, I think Tim might have overdosed. Found his pill bottles in the bathroom and he's unconscious. Looks like hell...but there's only six pain killers unaccounted for. Tony says he's burning up."

_"I assume you've called an ambulance?"_

"They're on their way," he said as he moved back toward the room.

_"I should have seen this earlier, I apologize..."_

"Seen what, Ducky?"

_"The reason he wanted to be outside in the cold. The reason he didn't feel feverish to you out there was because of the outdoor temperature. He may have an infection after all."_

"But he's on antibiotics," he argued.

_"I can only make assumptions from here, Jethro."_

"Duck, ya don't think he tried to kill himself, do you?" he asked quietly, keeping away from the room.

_"I can't answer that. But I assume he would've taken everything in the bottle if that was his intention. Perhaps he was simply trying to treat his pain without worrying anyone in the process."_

"Well he didn't do a very good job of that," he said angrily, and ended the call.

"McGee," Tony's voice continued to crack as Gibbs walked back into the room. Tony had gotten the icepack from the freezer and had it on Tim's forehead now. "C'mon, man..." he swallowed. "Gotta wake up."

Gibbs sat down on the other side of the bed and took in the ashen color on McGee's face. Trying to be strong for both agents, he looked to Tony, who was almost as pale as he was in obvious dismay. Then his eye caught sight of Tim's laptop sitting on the side table.

"Tony..." Tim grumbled as his eyes barely cracked open to look at him. Tony flinched.

"Tim, what happened?" he asked worriedly, hoping for an answer in his lucidity.

"Wasn't...sposed to happen..." Tim's hand gripped Tony's arm. "Hurts...too much..." Tony put a hand over the one that gripped his arm. Then McGee's eyes rolled back, and he started to seize.

"McGee!" Tony panicked as he tried to somehow stabilize him. Gibbs heard the paramedics as they rushed into the house, and he called out for them, standing from the bed. He spat out the medical history for them as they worked to stabilize Tim; Told them of his surgery and possible infection that could've caused this to happen. And he told them about the missing pills.

"Temp, 108," one of the paramedics said. "We need to cool him down. 4Mg Lorazepam push to stop the seizing. Prep cold packs for when we get him out of here."

"What coulda caused this?" Gibbs asked through the commotion of the scurrying EMTs.

"Can't say, at this point. Right now, we need to cool him down, or his system could start shutting down," the man explained.

Tim stopped seizing after they injected part of the serum. They placed him on a gurney and took them out of the room; Tony never catching a word they'd said while they were in there. He just blinked, blankly and looked at Gibbs. "Grab that," Gibbs pointed to the laptop, "And let's follow them."

* * *

Tony silently booted up the laptop as he rode in the passenger seat toward the hospital. It took a few moments for it to start up, but Tony patiently waited. And when it did, he clicked the Start menu and clicked Recent Documents, on a whim. The first thing on the list was called, 'TICSOL'.

"Ticsol?" Tony questioned out loud.

"What's that?" Gibbs asked.

"Dunno. It's a word document. Opening it now," he clicked on it and waited for the document to open. Then he read the title on the page itself. "Things I Can't Say Out Loud," Tony read. Then he scrolled down a bit to read what it said...

_Tony,_

_ I'm so sorry for everything that's causing you pain because of me. I wish I could make it go away. Maybe I should just leave...let you all carry on with your lives so you don't have to worry about __me anymore. I know you all care, but I care about you too, and it's killing me to know how much pain it's causing you to go through this nightmare with me. But I know if I just up and left, you'd kill yourself looking for me. So I can't do that. And now I don't know what to do..._

Tony's breath shuddered from his lungs as he could no longer hold himself together. Gibbs glanced over at him, seeing the tears running down his face as they pulled into the E.R parking lot. "What is it, Tony?" he asked as he put the car in park. Tony handed him the laptop without looking over at him, then let himself out of the car.

Gibbs looked at the document in front of him, reading everything Tim had written out for Tony. Closing his eyes for just a moment as he collected himself, he closed the computer and put it down in the seat before getting out of the car.

"I gotta get outta here, Boss," Tony said, in a low, but panicked voice as Gibbs moved around the car toward him. "I gotta leave...he just tried to kill himself because of _me_!"

"No," Gibbs told him and stopped the pacing agent by taking both shoulders in his hands. "Isn't because of you, and we don't know what happened yet. So stop."

"I can't...Boss, I thought I was helping him, and all I was doing was making it even worse. I can't stay..." Gibbs' hand shifted from his shoulder to hover behind the man's head, and head-slapped him.

"You listen to me!" he said sternly, as Tony flinched and turned his attention to his boss. "I've never seen _anyone_ do how much you've done to help McGee through this. You saved him. You did it without question, without permission, and without even thinking about it. He may not understand why, right now, but he never denied needing that from you. Maybe he thinks he's protecting us from how painful all of this is, but there's no way in hell I'm gonna let you end up in the same place," he summoned up all the courage he'd wished he'd had from the beginning, and pulled Tony into a hug; his hand staying on the distraught agent's head where he'd hit him just moments ago.

Tony stood in the embrace, confused and overwhelmed. But he didn't pull away. He just stood there with his arms limp at his sides and played that last statement over in his head, until he was sure he understood what his boss had meant. "I'm not gonna kill myself, Boss," he said in a low voice. "Just meant I should get out of his way." Gibbs pulled back from him.

"If you've learned anything from all of this, it should be that we're not gonna let him go through this on his own. And we're not gonna do that to you either. Regardless of what happened, we're not gonna go away, and either are you."

In that moment, Tony became aware of the tears on his cheeks, and he ducked his head as he wiped them away. "Is that an order?" he asked as he looked back up at Gibbs.

"If it has to be," Gibbs squinted at him.

"I told him I was gonna be there. No matter what, I was gonna do whatever it takes. Even if that means taking myself out of the equation." Gibbs flinched at the statement.

"Well, before you start adding it together, let's wait until we know what we're dealin' with," he started to turn and walk toward the entrance. Tony followed him. "And when we do," he continued, "You talk to me before you decide on anything. You got that?" he glanced back at him briefly.

"Got it, Boss," he said in barely a whisper.

* * *

_He was freezing...beyond freezing...he felt like death had gripped him in its icy claws. It took every ounce of strength in him to open his eyes. And it took a few moments to realize his body was submerged in a tub of ice-water. _

_ He moved his head to look around him and saw the bustle of doctors and nurses in the room. Every noise seemed distant and muted. But he heard someone speaking to him, though he couldn't find where the voice was coming from..._

_ "Mr. McGee, you're in the hospital. You were running a very high fever and we needed to cool you down. We should be able to take you out of there in a few minutes..." the voice drifted off as his eyelids closed again, and he drifted back into unconsciousness..._

* * *

**20 hours earlier...**

Tim stumbled into the kitchen from the deck as he saw Ziva preparing breakfast over the stove. "G'morning, Ziva," he said sleepily. She looked over at him and gave him a small smile.

"Good morning. Are you hungry?" she asked. He wasn't...at all. But he would eat anyway, so she wouldn't worry.

"Sure," he said as he sat down at the table. His stomach was hurting again. "What time is it? I think I need a pain pill."

"I believe you are due for one," she said as she poured oatmeal into a bowl and set it down in front of him. She went to the pill organizer and popped open the top. "Are you feeling ill?"

"Not bad. Just don't want it to get that way, ya know?"

"Yes," she smiled and placed the pill in his hand, turning around again to fetch him a bottle of water. "Would you like some coffee?"

"No thanks. This is fine," he picked up his spoon and pushed the oatmeal around in the bowl until she handed him the water. He swallowed the pill as she made herself a bowl of the oatmeal and sat across from him at the table. Tim was grateful that she wasn't scrutinizing his every move.

He put a small spoonful of the oatmeal into his mouth, not even chewing it before swallowing it down as if it were medicine. "Did you sleep well?" she asked after swallowing a bite of her meal.

"Think so," he replied. "Being outside was nice."

"I sometimes prefer the nice cool air of the night, as well. It is much easier to breathe, yes?"

"I guess so," he replied, looking back down at his bowl, dreading the next spoonful.

"You do not have to eat that if you do not like it, McGee," she said and he looked up to see her smirk. "I can make you something else."

"No, it's okay, Ziva. You already went through all this trouble..."

"Making oatmeal is not 'going through trouble'," she narrowed her eyes. He slightly cocked his head.

"Maybe I'll just have one of those shakes," he said. She nodded, taking his bowl before standing to go to the fridge.

"I am not very big on breakfast, either," she smirked as she set the shake down in front of him. "I need to use the bathroom," she told him as she turned to walk out. When he heard the bathroom door close, he thought fast. He briskly made his way to the cabinet and fished out the prescription bottles, quietly closing the cabinet again before slipping them into his pants pocket.

McGee moved back to the table, cracking open the shake as he turned to the sink. He looked back over his shoulder to make sure she wasn't there, then poured the liquid directly into the drain, so there'd be no evidence that he hadn't consumed it.

When it was empty, he made his way back to his seat and refilled the bottle halfway with his bottled water. As he replaced the cap on his water, Ziva came back into the room. He picked up the shake and took a long drink of the water, finishing off every drop, and he wiped his mouth with his hand.

"That was fast," Ziva said.

"Guess I was just hungry," he gave a half smile, then stood from the table, picking up the empty bottle and tossing it into the trash. "I'm gonna go lay down for a while," he told her as he grabbed his water. "Thanks."

"If you need anything, just yell."

McGee hurriedly closed the door and went directly to the bathroom. He fished the bottles from his pocket and set them down on the sink. Tim only needed the pain killers, but he didn't have time to discern when he grabbed them from the kitchen, and they both were the same size, unlike the fatter bottle of antibiotics. He opened the bottle and fished out another pain pill and popped it into his mouth, washing it down with the water.

Turning the light out, he walked out of the bathroom and back toward his bed, closing his eyes at the pain in his stomach as he lowered himself down onto the mattress. _"It'll go away soon,"_ he told himself. Tim curled up on his side and pulled the covers up over his shoulders. After a few long minutes of trying to breathe through the pain, he drifted off to sleep...

* * *

"McGee," he heard Ziva's voice and felt her hand on his shoulder. Tim cracked open his eyes to look at her where she sat on the bed. "It is time for your meds. Antibiotics and a pain killer. I also brought you a sandwich if you are hungry. It is lunch time."

He pushed his sore body up to sit against the head board as he tried to contemplate how the time had gone by so quickly. First taking the meds, he reluctantly took the plate from her offering hands and set it down in his lap. "Thanks," he said simply.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied, a little disappointed she would be staying in the room, making it impossible for him to simply throw the sandwich away.

"What would you prefer to watch?" she asked as she made her way to the stack of DVDs.

"You pick," he said. "I'll watch whatever," he tore off a bite-sized piece of the sandwich and threw it into the waste bin beside the bed while she was distracted.

"Hmm," she turned one of the cases to read the back. He took the opportunity to tear off another piece and toss it. "This one looks interesting," she held up the case for him to see. "I Am Legend. Have you seen it?"

"Yeah, but it's good enough to see again," he grinned. She nodded and opened the case, placing the disc in to player. McGee tore off another piece of the sandwich. Ziva turned on the television and turned back toward the bed, sitting down next to him as she picked up the remote.

"You must have been hungry," she said as she glanced down at what was left of the sandwich.

"Uh...yeah- I- I'm pretty full now, though. Guess I'll just toss the rest of it," he pushed the rest of it off of the plate, into the trash.

"Give me the plate," she reached for it, then set it down on the night stand on her side of the bed, "I will take it to the kitchen after the movie."

As the movie began playing, Tim swallowed; the pain in his stomach, twisting. "I'm uh...gonna go use the bathroom," he said, then cautiously pushed himself up from the bed and hurried to the bathroom, closing the door behind him as he flicked on the light. He lifted the lid on the toilet and unzipped his pants, relieving himself from his full bladder. Then he flushed the toilet and turned on the sink.

The noise from the running water drowned out the sound of him opening the pill bottle as he fetched out another pain killer and swallowed it down. He washed his hands, then flicked off the light as he opened the door. Realizing, once again, that Ziva was there, he closed the bathroom door before heading back to the bed.

* * *

McGee woke up with a pain that radiated through his whole body. He hadn't recalled exactly when he'd fallen asleep, but the television was off, and Ziva was no where in sight. Tim groaned as he rolled over. Getting off of the bed was a task he'd never felt this difficult before.

Grabbing his water bottle, he trudged toward the bathroom, flicking the light on as he went in. His hands shook as he opened the pill bottle, and he fished out two of them. There was no way to tell, at the moment, what time it was. But he'd noticed it was dark out when he passed the window in the bedroom.

Tim swallowed down both pills and looked at himself in the mirror. His face was covered in a sheen layer of sweat, and there were circles under his eyes. He turned on the cold water and splashed in onto his face. It felt soothing, so he did it a second time before turning it off and grabbing a towel to dry himself off.

What he'd really wanted to do was take a shower. But the amount of pain that radiated through him would never allow it. So he trudged back into the room, flicking off the bathroom light before making his way to the bed and collapsing down onto it.

McGee knew he should tell Ziva how much pain he was in, but the last thing he wanted was for word to get back to his team that he was ill. Soon, he would be okay. But for now, he would suffer through it until the pain killers kicked in.

His gaze shifted to his laptop. Yesterday, he'd started to write out the things he'd had on his heart, that he couldn't bring himself to say out loud. He reached for the computer and pulled it into his lap. He felt like asking for help...but he'd ask it with his keyboard, to an empty audience...

_Everything hurts. I can't stand it...driving me out of my mind. The smell of food makes me want to vomit. But she keeps bringing it to me anyway, and it's easier then I thought it would be to dispose of it without her knowing. _

_ I've never taken so many pain killers in one day before. I wish I could take them all without it killing me. Slipping into a coma until whatever this is subsides, seems like a really great idea. _

_ I should've stayed at the hospital. If anything, it would've saved you all. My discomfort is a small price to pay for the sanity of the people I care most about. And now that I hurt so bad, I wouldn't mind a nice morphine drip._

_ As soon as the pain killers kick in, I think I'll take a nice long shower..._

Tim closed the computer after saving the document. His eyelids were growing heavy again, and he welcomed the unconsciousness as an escape from everything he was feeling...

* * *

Torn once more from his slumber, Tim looked over at the alarm clock beside the bed. It was 8:27; still night, as he'd concluded from the dark view coming from the window. He pushed himself off of the bed, cringing at the pain in his stomach that seemed to radiate all the way to his back. His thoughts focused on getting to the bathroom.

He flicked the light on and closed the door, going straight for the pain killers. Two more should hold him over; he swallowed them down with help from the tap. Then he heard a light knock on the door.

"McGee?"

"Yeah?" he furrowed his brow at the sound of Ziva...what if he was caught with the bottle? They would take it away...

"It is time for your meds," she said. "And I brought you some soup if you are hungry."

"Okay...just leave it all next to my bed," he said through the door. "I'm gonna....take a nice long shower."

"Are you okay, McGee?" she asked.

"Yeah...yeah I'm okay. Just need a shower," he closed his eyes, hoping she would go.

"If you need any assistance, just let me know," she said. "I will be cleaning up in the kitchen."

"Kay...thanks," he said and opened his eyes. He sighed and turned toward the shower, turning on the faucet and lifting the shower lever. He stripped out of his clothes, leaving on his boxers, and stepped in. The water seemed freezing, and he bent down to turn the cold down a bit.

By the time he got the water warm enough, he started feeling light-headed. But he stood in the heavy stream for another moment before grabbing onto the shower curtain, and decided he needed to get out...he needed to get out and call for Ziva. He needed to tell her how much pain he was in, because now he was terrified.

When his foot hit the mat outside of the tub, he felt his leg become weak. Quickly he pulled himself out of the tub the rest of the way before he thought to lower himself to his knees. Tim's chin quivered...he was cold, wet, and felt like something terribly wrong was happening. "Zi- Ziva..." he tried to say it loud, but it didn't overpower the noise from the shower.

Tim tried again, but nothing came out at all... He attempted to crawl toward the door; reaching it and standing on his knees with all his strength, he managed to open it slightly, but then everything went black...

His body fell back against the floor...

* * *

**Okay...so I woke up in an excruciating amount of pain in my head, sinus, eyes, and wisdom tooth (which has been there for years but hurts like hell right now), but I managed to finish this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it. Make me feel better with some reviews so I can keep writing today lol ;)**


	15. Chapter 15

Ducky came out of the double doors of the E.R and approached Tony and Gibbs, who stood as they saw him.

"How is he, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"They ran some blood tests as they kept him in an ice bath to bring down the fever," he began. "The good news, is that there wasn't a very high drug content in his system, which means he probably took the six extra pills over the course of the entire day."

"What's the bad news?" Tony asked nervously, but felt a little relieved that Tim hadn't been responsible for what happened.

"Timothy's body was resistant to the antibiotics they sent him home with," he said with a grim look, "His surgical wound became infected. And, unfortunately, they believe that due to the nature of the initial injury, and the white blood-cell count, that he may be experiencing the beginning stages of sepsis."

"What's that mean, exactly?" Gibbs asked.

"Matter from the colon has seeped into his bloodstream, causing a form of blood poisoning. Turning his blood toxic, basically."

"W-what...they can treat him, right?" Tony stuttered.

"They'll be giving him some stronger antibiotics and he'll be hooked up to a dialysis machine to cleanse his blood. Timothy is a strong young lad, and I'm sure he'll be able to recover from this. But he'll have to stay here until he's cleared."

"Okay," Tony said, "I'll stay with him," he offered.

"I need you at work tomorrow," Gibbs told him.

"I was taking the morning off anyway," Ducky said. "I'll stay here. The two of you go home and get some rest if you can manage. Tim will be heavily sedated through the night; a small mercy from the amount of pain he's in. When he's up, I'll call you," he told Gibbs.

Ziva came from around the corner, into their view, "How is he?" she said as she approached them. "What happened?" her eyes showed pure fear and guilt.

"You said McGee hadn't complained of pain all day," Gibbs said as he turned to face her. "How is it that we find him unconscious on the bathroom floor running a fever that could fry his brain?" he asked sternly, letting his own fears fuel his agitation. Ziva flinched at his words. She'd already blamed herself... But hearing it from him caused her greater pain.

"I...I should have paid more attention..." she said in a low voice.

"Yeah, ya should have," Gibbs said, a little less harshly.

"He hid his pain from me, Gibbs...but I should have seen it..." her eyes began to fill with unshed tears. Tony stepped between them.

"Hey, you did what you were supposed to," he said, "You gave him his meds and made sure he ate," he turned to face Gibbs, "She couldn't really follow him into the bathroom, Boss. If he was hiding this from her, he must've done a pretty damn good job to pull it off."

"The only one at fault here," Ducky interjected, "Is Timothy. But I don't believe he realized that his pain came from something other than what he must have suspected was his original wound." Gibbs heard him, but he hadn't taken his eyes away from Ziva. Ducky's words hadn't convinced her that she should be free from guilt. He could tell by the way her eyes searched the air between them.

"Ziver," Gibbs said in a more calm tone, and she looked at him, "Take Tony home. Get some sleep."

"What about McGee?" she asked.

"He's not goin' anywhere. Duck is gonna stay with him tonight. I need you both tomorrow, so go home," he glanced at Tony before turning back toward Ducky.

As much as Tony wanted to stay there with McGee, he had Ziva to worry about now. He took her arm and lead her out of the hospital...

* * *

"You okay, Zi?" Tony asked as they lay in bed in the dark. He heard her sigh.

"I am...aggravated with myself," she said. "That I did not talk more to him while he was still awake."

"He didn't want you to know," Tony told her. "Didn't want any of us to. If I were there...same thing woulda happened..." his voice drifted. She turned to face him.

"Are you okay?" she asked, seeking out his hand on the mattress. He took hold of hers when he felt it.

"Found a document on his laptop," he told her. "He wrote a letter specifically for me... Zi, I thought he tried to kill himself when I read it..."

"What did it say?" she asked as she propped her head up on her elbow.

"That he didn't want us to suffer because of him," he said in barely a whisper. "That he should go away."

"Did he intend for you to see it?"

"Probably not."

"Perhaps he was simply venting? Sometimes people write in journals, just to let their feelings out somehow without having to tell anyone what they fear."

"Doesn't mean it's not true," he retorted.

"Sometimes you just have to see it on paper in order to find its true meaning; to figure out if it is just a frustration..."

"Have _you_ ever done that?"

"Keep a journal?"

"Yeah."

"No. But I have written letters to my father, that I had no intention of sending."

"Why?"

"Because there would have been no point," she settled back down on the pillow. "He does not listen, nor would he truthfully answer. So, I would read them myself, and figure out what I needed to know, and what I could dismiss as being unnecessary."

"Did it make you feel better?" he asked. She thought about that question for a moment before answering.

"No," she said finally. "But, it did help me to put things into perspective." Tony considered her words.

"I hope that's what McGee was doing, then..."

* * *

Gibbs walked into the guest room once he got back to his house; McGee's laptop tucked under his arm. He looked around with narrowed eyes, trying to imagine what this day had been like for Tim. His eyes fell on the night stand closest to him. An untouched bowl of soup and an unopened bottle of water, and two pills laying beside it on the little table.

His head turned toward the bathroom; a flash of how McGee looked when they'd found him played in his mind. Gibbs walked around to the other side of the bed, searching the night stand on that side. He pulled the laptop from his arm and moved to set it back down, but his eyes caught sight of the waste bin. Putting the computer down on the bed, he sat down and picked up the can, allowing light from the lamp to illuminate its contents. An entire sandwich, torn apart and thrown away...he began to understand how Tim had fooled Ziva.

He set the can back down and pulled the computer into his lap, opening it and powering it on. Luckily for him, the computer had simply hibernated when it was closed, and the document Tony had discovered was still open on the screen. He read it over again, carefully. Then he realized they hadn't noticed there was more, as he scrolled down on the page.

The rest of the page described how much pain he'd been in, and how he'd fooled Ziva intentionally. Gibbs couldn't help the tinge of anger toward the man. They'd spoken about him being truthful, just the night before. And now he'd nearly died because he didn't want to hurt them?

Gibbs ran a frustrated hand down the front of his face and closed the laptop again, setting it back on the table. Picking up the trash bin, he stood and walked around to the other side of the bed and grabbed the bowl, bringing both to the kitchen. He set the bowl in the sink and dumped the trash into the larger can.

Suddenly, an intense burst of anger rushed through him, and he threw the waste bin violently across the room. It hit the wall with a thud and fell to the floor. But he wasn't satisfied. He headed for the basement, grabbing a baseball bat from the top of the stairs before heading down. When he reached the construction, he brought the bat up over his shoulder in position to swing...but he stopped.

It was almost as if someone was holding the bat in place, but he knew better. He also knew the feeling in his chest; fear... He was afraid. What Tim had already been through was bad enough. Now he had come all the more closer to death right under their noses.

And Tony... the man had a bad habit of faulting himself to begin with. Now, with evidence that could be interpreted in that favor, how could he not feel that pain? Torturous guilt that Gibbs knew all too well, could eat at someone's very being. And he hated what this was doing to him...hated that everything he'd talked to McGee about hadn't helped at all.

His body turned as he lowered the bat, and he lowered himself to sit on the floor with his back up against the boat. The top of the bat was on the floor, and he wrung the grip between his hands; twisting it, much in the fashion his stomach was churning now. He felt his eyes begin to sting and he clamped them shut, pulling the edge of the grip against his forehead.

There was no one for him to go after; no one to hunt down and make pay for the torment his agents were experiencing. Maybe then, he could have a discernible goal. There would be something to shoot for and some way he could make everything seem a little better...somehow. But the revenge aspect of the situation wasn't part of the equation, and he was at a loss as to what to do to make up for it.

But he wouldn't let this happen to them... And he sure as hell wasn't going to give up on them either. Whatever it took, just as Tony had accepted to do for McGee, was exactly what he would do for them. But he didn't know what, exactly, that was...

* * *

"Why didn't you call me?" Abby asked, horrified, as Gibbs stood in the doorway of her apartment.

"You wouldn't have slept, Abs," he said. "And there was nothin' you could do."

"But I would've gone to see him!"

"Ducky's been there with him all night. And I need you to go relieve him until I get there to relieve you." She looked at him for a moment before grabbing her bag and keys.

"I'm still pissed," she said as she pulled her door closed and began walking out to her car. "Just wanted you to know that."

"I know it," he replied. "Don't give him a had time, Abby," he said as he followed behind her toward his own car. She stopped and turned to face him, causing him to stop in his tracks before her.

"Why would I give Tim a hard time? It's Ziva's fault! She was supposed to be watching him!"

"It's not her fault," he narrowed his eyes at her. "And don't you even say anything like that again. She feels bad enough as it is."

"She should..."

"No, Abby, she shouldn't," he defended, sternly. "McGee went through a lot of trouble to make sure she didn't know what he was going through."

"Why would he do that?" she asked, all anger gone from her voice.

"Because he's so wrapped up in makin' sure none of us are upset, that he didn't realize just how bad he was getting." She cocked her jaw, trying to fend off the tears that threatened to fill her eyes.

"How bad is he, Gibbs?" she asked in barely a whisper. His eyes flinched a bit at her question.

"I called Ducky this morning. Doctors found out his liver and kidneys suffered some dysfunction from the sepsis." Abby swallowed a sob. "But they're hopeful that the meds they're giving him will help him fully recover. No permanent damage."

"What about his brain?" she asked. "Has he regained consciousness since he was brought in?" Gibbs shook his head; his eyes focusing elsewhere as Abby's reddened, watering eyes threatened to cause his to do the same.

Abby turned around and resumed her trek to the car. "You gonna be okay, Abs?" he asked.

"I'm not the one you should be concerned about," she replied as she tried to fit her key into the door lock. Her hands shook and she cursed under her breath. Then she felt Gibbs' hand on her shoulder and she paused, cocking her jaw again as she blinked back tears.

"I'm concerned about all of you, Abby," he said softly. Her eyes searched the air in front of her for a moment. Then she turned around quickly, throwing her arms around him for a quick hug.

"Just don't forget to fit yourself in there, too," she told him, then released him and got into her car. He smirked at her for a moment, then turned to get into his.

* * *

By the time Gibbs arrived in the bullpen, Tony and Ziva were already there at their desks. Tony stood as his boss passed his desk. "Hey, Boss. Any word on McGee?"

"Nothing new," he replied simply, then sat at his desk, picking up a note that had been left for him.

"Oh," Tony said as he slowly sat back down in his chair. He glanced at Ziva who matched his disappointed face with her own.

"Ziva, you up to speed on the case?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes," she replied, "Tony briefed me on it."

"DiNozzo, you check out that list of suspects yet?"

"Narrowed it down to two possibilities, Boss. Both on schedule to work today. You want me to bring them in for questioning?"

"Take Ziva with you," he said as he stood from his desk and started toward the stairs up to MTAC.

"On it," Tony said as he and Ziva collected their weapons and badges.

* * *

"You wanted to see me, Director?" Gibbs asked as he entered Vance's office and closed the door behind him.

"I heard Agent McGee was rushed to the hospital last night. He okay?"

"We're hoping so," he replied as he walked to the chair in front of the desk and sat.

"I wasn't able to get any specifics from his doctor. What happened?"

"The antibiotics they sent home with him, he turned out to have some kinda resistance from. He got an infection which they believe lead to his sepsis." Vance flinched at the news.

"That's a serious illness," Vance said. "A third of even the healthiest patients who contract it, don't survive." It was Gibbs' turn to flinch. "Any organ failure?" he asked.

"His liver and kidneys...Ducky said they were showing signs of dysfunction."

"McGee was lucky to have you there to get him to the hospital before it became more serious. Guess this means you'll be needing more time?"

"He's gonna need to stay in the hospital this time," Gibbs replied. "But I still think it's important we have someone there with him."

"As long as your agents continue to pull the extra slack, that shouldn't be a problem."

"They've been doing a good job so far."

"Yeah, so far. I'm just hoping you'll be able to keep them that way. Or make the call when they can't handle the workload."

"If I thought they couldn't handle it, I'd tell ya."

"And I'd pass the case on to another team. I just need to know I've got you for the tough ones."

"If it comes down to needing everyone back here, the fact he's in the hospital makes it more of a possibility to have everyone here." Vance nodded in acknowledgment.

"How's the rest of your team, Gibbs?" he asked. Gibbs narrowed his eyes for a moment at the question.

"Handling it the best they can," he replied. "They're worried about him. So am I."

"Hopefully it's not brought out into the field," he said. "That's a distraction you may not be able to afford if it comes down to a dangerous situation."

"It's not gonna be a problem," he argued in a steady, calm voice; expression unwavering.

"Good. And I expect you'd pull them out if it _did_ become one," he told him. Gibbs nodded.

"Anything else, Director?"

"Not at this time," he answered. Gibbs stood. "Keep me updated on McGee's recovery," he said. "And let him know we're prayin' for him." Gibbs gave him a small smile and nodded again before leaving the office.

* * *

"He's being treated with three different antibiotics," Ducky explained to Abby as they stood by the door in Tim's ICU room. "The machine you see there is being used to cleanse the plasma, which carries the bacteria throughout his body."

"I know how dialysis works, Ducky. I just wasn't sure how they were using it in this case."

"It's an experimental treatment, but effective. They found some dysfunction in his kidneys, as Jethro told you. The machine will assist in processing the medicines as well. It will give his organs the time needed to recover."

"Why hasn't he regained consciousness?"

"He's been sedated, Abigail. Although, it's been several hours since then. He might wake up while you're still here. If he does, you'll need to get the doctor. He needs to be assessed for any changes in his...mental status."

"Timmy will be fine, Ducky," she said in a low voice as she attempted not to show her fear in that statement possibly being untrue. Ducky gave her a small smile and patted her shoulder.

"You'll keep a good eye on him. Give me a call if anything changes."

"Aren't you going home to get some sleep?" she raised her brows.

"I slept through the night here, Abby. I'm needed at work, as are you. At least one of us needs to be there," he winked. She gave him a small smile as he left, and made her way over to Tim's bed. She swallowed as she approached; he seemed so small and weak where he lay. Abby sat in a chair beside the bed and pulled it closer so she could reach his hand to hold it as he slept.

* * *

**Been on and off ill all day with some mysterious ailments. I think there's enough drugs in my system to sedate a small horse. But I seemed to be able to get some writing in anyway. Hope you enjoyed this chapter :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**As exhausted as I am, I had to get this out before bed so it didn't have time to lose flavor before morning. Please enjoy! **

**Special thanks to everyone who's reviewed and/or added this to alert/faves! I'll list names when my eyes stop burning ;)**

* * *

Abby wasn't sure when she'd drifted off to sleep, but she was pulled into consciousness when she felt Tim's hand move beneath hers. Her face turned to his as his eyes began to open.

"Timmy?" she said softly as she put her other hand underneath the one she was already holding.

"Abs?" he looked at her. "Where...why am I here?" She felt a moment of panic, but quickly shoved it aside.

"Tim, this is very important," she said. He furrowed his brow as he looked at her. "What's the last thing you remember? I mean...other then waking up just now, of course. Like, do you remember where you were before you came here?"

"At Gibbs' house?" he questioned, feeling a bit of panic now, himself.

"Tell me what you remember."

"Uh..." his eyes fixed somewhere in front of him as he thought. "I uh...remember...being in the shower," he said, and tried to swallow but realized his throat was uncomfortably dry, and it caused him to cough.

"Here," she reached for the yellow pitcher of water and poured some into a plastic cup. The head of the bed was already risen up at a 45 degree angle, and she held the cup to his lips. He picked his head up, grimacing at the throbbing at his temples before taking a drink.

"Thanks," he said as he lay his head back down. "I was sick," he added.

"What?"

"In the shower...I was really sick. Everything hurt."

"Why didn't you tell Ziva you were hurting so bad?" she asked.

"I..." his eyes darted around the room before settling on hers, "I was going to...I tried. I thought I would be okay if I could take enough pain killers. I didn't realize how sick..." his eyes closed as his head began to swim.

"Are you okay?" she became nervous. He didn't respond. "I'm gonna go get the doctor, Timmy. Hold on," she quickly ran out of the room and called for help. Once she was sure she'd gotten someone's attention, she returned to Tim's side.

"Tony..." he said sleepily.

"Tony's at work, Tim," she told him as she grabbed his hand again.

"You...need to tell him..." he opened his eyes the best he could and tried to focus on her, "Tell him I'm sorry. If something happens to me...promise me, Abby. Tell him I'm sorry..."

"You're gonna be okay," she said, her voice cracking.

"Please, Abs," he said as the room began to fill with staff.

"Okay, Timmy. I'll tell him," she let go of his hand and backed away from the bed so they could get to him.

"Abby!" he called.

"I'm right here," she couldn't hold back her tears any longer.

"I need him to come here...if he can...please...I need to tell him..."

"Ma'am," one of the nurses turned to her, "We're gonna need to ask you to leave for a minute." Abby nodded hesitantly and scurried out of the room; tears soaking her face as she turned to look through the glass as they examined him...

* * *

Tony and Gibbs stood in the observation room, looking through the two-way mirror into the interrogation room. Ziva was questioning one of the suspects. A smirk appeared on both agent's faces as the man in front of Ziva began to squirm uncomfortably.

Tony's phone began to chirp quietly in his pocket, and he nervously glanced at Gibbs before pulling it out of his pocket and reading the caller ID. His brow furrowed and he looked at Gibbs again as he answered. "Abby, what's up?" he nearly whispered. Gibbs watched him now, concerned. Tony's eyes drifted elsewhere as he listened to the voice on the other line, and he began to walk toward the door. "I'll be there as soon as I can," he said, then ended the call and turned back to his boss before exiting into the hall.

Gibbs followed him out and closed the door behind him, "What's goin' on?" Gibbs inquired.

"Abby seems pretty upset," he started. "McGee woke up and he begged her to get me there. Says he needs to talk to me."

"Did she say how he's doing?" he asked. Tony's brow furrowed as his eyes unfocused for a moment before replying.

"She said...he thinks he's not gonna make it," his voice cracked. Gibbs flinched at his words.

"Go," he told him. "Call me when you know what's going on."

* * *

The elevator ride up to ICU seemed to take an eternity. Tony's heart was pounding in his chest, much as it had been the entire ride to the hospital. Earlier that morning, when he'd first gotten into work, he'd researched sepsis online, and he knew the odds of recovery. It scared the hell out of him. But it didn't even compare to the fear he was experiencing in this moment.

The doors opened and he hurried out, looking up the hall to the left, then the right, spotting Abby standing outside of the room. She saw him just as he'd looked over at her, and she turned toward him as he walked to her.

"Tony...he refuses to let them sedate him until he could talk to you," she explained. "He's in so much pain, but they can't give him too many pain killers because of his kidneys." He nodded and quickly entered the room and made his way to Tim's side.

"McGee?" Tim opened his eyes at the sound of Tony's voice.

"Tony," he rasped, and reached for his hand. "Gotta tell you..." Tony's heart sank at the sight of the tears that hung in the outer corners of McGee's eyes. "Sorry about this..." his breath hitched with the pain. "Sorry for...letting it get...this bad..."

"Not your fault, Probie," Tony squeezed his hand.

"Yeah it is," he said, swallowing before he continued. "I didn't want...you to worry..."

"I know. I read what you wrote," he told him. Tim furrowed his brow. "You know me. Always stickin' my nose where it don't belong," he smirked at him. Tim responded with a small smile of his own, then quickly frowned again.

"Need you to...make sure...my mom and dad...and Sarah...never find out what happened to me... need you to promise me..."

"You're not gonna die, Tim," Tony's voice betrayed him as it cracked. His free hand settled on the top of Tim's head, trying to comfort him.

"If I do...Tony... always loved you, man..." A tear stubbornly escaped Tony's eye, and he clenched his jaw. "Tell Gibbs and...Ziva, I...loved them too..."

A doctor and nurse came into the room then. "Sir, we need to sedate Mr. McGee now. His blood pressure is reaching critical."

"Tony!" McGee cried out, and Tony looked back down at him through blurry eyes. "Promise..."

"I promise, Tim," he barely whispered. "But you gotta promise me somethin'." Tim furrowed his brow again in question. "Promise you're not gonna give up. You keep fighting," he said through clenched teeth. "You promise me that, Probie." Tim swallowed again and nodded as tears slipped down his face. "We love you, too," he said as he let go of his hand and backed away from the bed. The nurse injected something into his IV, and Tony stayed until Tim's eyes drifted closed.

As the staff cleared the room, Tony's head fell forward and he let go of the shaky breath he'd been holding back from. His eyes clamped shut as he couldn't stop the tears...the sobbing that took him over at the fear of possibly losing his partner...his brother...

And suddenly he felt someone touching his arm and he looked up to see Abby before she embraced him. His arms went around her, holding onto her as if she was the only thing keeping him from falling into the abyss. And they both cried, as silently as their bodies would allow, until Tony needed to pull away.

"I gotta go, Abs," he said as he wiped his cheeks. "You...you call me again if anything..." She nodded, acknowledging she understood what he was trying to say, and he forced himself out of the room...

* * *

Gibbs hit the emergency switch in the elevator and turned to Ziva when it halted. "Ziver," he said softly, and she looked up at him. "I owe you an apology...for what I said last night."

"Never apologize," she smirked, but it faded quickly.

"That rule doesn't apply, when I've been a complete fool," he said, placing a hand on her arm. Her eyes darted back and forth between his. "I came to conclusions that I shouldn't have."

"I am a trained investigator," she argued. "I should have seen what was happening."

"Tim's a trained investigator, too, Ziver. He knew what you'd look for and what you wouldn't." She gave him an inquisitive look. "He threw away his food," he told her. She flinched. "He made sure you'd think he was eating. Didn't give you a chance to suspect he was in pain."

Ziva's gaze dropped to his chest as she thought. "I can understand why he did what he did," she said. "I can even relate," she looked back up at his eyes, "But what I do not understand, is how I did not see how much he was suffering. And in hindsight, why I did not think to check on him when he would not even open the bathroom door for his meds."

"You trusted him," Gibbs said. "McGee's not a liar. Not in his nature. But in his own twisted way, he was trying to protect us. Don't ever think that what happened was your fault. 'Cause I won't allow it. And I'm sorry that I thought it for even a second." She blinked her stinging eyes, and he leaned over to kiss her forehead, then turned to flip the emergency switch.

* * *

By the time Tony reached the bullpen, he was numb. In fact, he hadn't even recalled the trip back from Bethesda, or the elevator ride to the floor. He looked around at the empty desks, pausing a little longer on McGee's. Depression filled thickly in his chest...

He turned around and headed back to the elevator, pressing the button once he reached it. When the doors opened, Gibbs and Ziva were standing there inside. But he barely registered them as he boarded.

Gibbs motioned for Ziva to go ahead as he remained inside, and she complied, sharing a nervous glance with him as the doors closed. "Where ya headed?" Gibbs asked.

"Autopsy," Tony replied flatly. Gibbs nodded, pressing the button for him as he waited for him to continue. After a moment, he did. "McGee wanted me to tell you...and Ziva, that he loves you guys," he said in barely a whisper. Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "Made me promise not to let his family find out about the rape," he swallowed, "If he doesn't make it."

"He's gonna make it, Tony," Gibbs told him. Tony smirked.

"Know why he wanted me to come?" he asked without looking away from the doors. "He wanted to apologize," he let out a small laugh, that seemed to end in a struggled sob he immediately tucked back away. "Typical of him, right?" Gibbs swallowed and furrowed his brow.

"What're you goin' to autopsy for?" he asked as the doors opened. Tony glanced briefly at his boss before walking out.

"Hope," he replied simply. As the doors closed Gibbs into the elevator alone, he looked down at the floor, contemplating the answer he'd given. Tony had come down there to hear something from Ducky that would give him back his faith to believe Tim would survive this. And that could only mean one thing...he thoroughly believed that McGee was going to die...

* * *

**Time for sleep. It's a short chapter, I know, but powerful. So it was worth standing alone. More to come tomorrow, later in the evening, as I have to work and go spend time with some of my favorite peoples...**


	17. Chapter 17

**I was trying to think of a good song to use for this...but I couldn't seem to think of anything appropriate. But I came across a quote. It's by Shakespeare...some of you would probably know that. But it'll be in *astericks*. Enjoy!**~  
~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

*Oft expectation fails, and most oft where most it promises; and oft it hits where hope is coldest; and despair most sits*

Gibbs had sent Abby off to work and took over watch for Tim in ICU. He'd made one stop before coming over, and that was to his house to pick up McGee's laptop and overnight bag. There was no way he was going to give up hope for Tim; he was going to have to be the one who held onto that much.

As he sat there next to the bed, he powered up the computer; a thought he'd been pondering since before he decided to grab it on the way out, playing strongly in his mind now. Gibbs would start a new document; one for Tim to read once he was able... Not 'if'... 'when'.

_Tim._

_ You're in big trouble. Trying to fool a former Mossad officer and scaring us all to death...forgivable. But making us think you might not make it? Lucky for you, we don't give up that quickly. _

_ When you get up, and have the ability to read this over, I just wanted you to know that I..._

Gibbs paused his typing as he looked over at the sleeping agent in the bed. His brow was furrowed, and he looked anything but like he was having a peaceful rest. Tim was in pain. He knew that much. He just hoped he wouldn't remember any of it once he got through this.

Gibbs looked back down at the screen and decided to delete what he'd written. Then he started over...

* * *

"I understand why you're so concerned, Anthony," Ducky said to the agent who laid on the cold table with his arm propped under the back of his head as he stared up at the ceiling. "But McGee is in capable hands and was given a hopeful prognosis. He may not see the possibility of recovery through the amount of pain he's in right now, but that's because he's the only one who hasn't been read in on what's happened to him."

"Honestly," Tony smirked, "I hardly think he'd feel any relief by hearing what's actually happening to him right now."

"The fact that he's aware he's in a hospital, but still experiencing no relief from the pain, probably scares the hell out of him," Ducky explained.

"What am I supposed to tell his family, Ducky?" he asked as he turned his head toward the doctor.

"That, I'm not sure I can help with," he said. "But I do know that he wouldn't benefit from bringing more worried souls into the equation. And I certainly don't think this is the end for young Timothy," he watched Tony flinch, "So, there's no need to inform his family at this time."  
"It sure felt like he was sayin' his goodbyes," Tony said in a low voice. Ducky put a hand on Tony's shoulder, and the agent looked up at him.

"Blessings come in many shapes and sizes," he told him. "An avenue in which to speak one's mind, when in all other circumstances they felt they could not, is certainly not always a step toward death. And though pain may have redirected his fear into believing that this, indeed, is the end, it drained the fear that held the walls of defense to what he needed to tell you."

Tony's focus darted about the crevices in the ceiling as he pondered the statement. "You mean, kinda like if he were drunk?" he looked back at the now smiling M.E.

"Not entirely the same thing, but I suppose you could say that. However, not all drunken conversation is intelligible, or even completely truthful. And that state of mind is clouded and circumstantial, whereas one's 'deathbed' confessions are complete and honest thoughts, mingled only with heartfelt need to make amends that one wishes he could've done long ago."

"But that isn't his deathbed..." mostly a confirmation, but also a question.

"I don't believe so, Tony. I believe he'll come through this, despite the odds. And he would want you to believe that as well." Ducky moved toward his desk as Tony silently ran through his own thoughts.

"Can I take a cat-nap here, Ducky?" he asked after a few long moments.

"We don't have any scheduled autopsies at the moment, so I don't see why not."

"If Ziva needs me for anything...well, I guess she'll call," he said as he closed his eyes. Ducky narrowed his eyes for a moment, concerned for the agent. He made his way toward the door, turning off some of the overhead lights as he left.

"Sweet dreams, Anthony," he said lightly as he made his way toward the elevator.

* * *

Ziva sat at her desk, filling out a report from their latest case. But her mind kept drifting to Tony; the look on his face in the elevator before the doors closed in front of her. And then to the uncertainty of McGee's fate.

She breathed in deep, trying to subside the nausea that kept creeping up unexpectedly. It had been a long time since she'd been so afraid... But she knew she would have to be strong. For Tony...for Tim...even for Gibbs, she would have to hold up her head and be what McGee had tried so desperately to be for them all.

There was nothing she could do otherwise for any of them now. It hurt her to accept that fact, but it was true. She had no time for self-loathing or sorrow...despair that clawed so frantically at her heart. She could not lose hope. She wouldn't do that to Tim. She owed him that much...

"Ziva." Her attention was pulled to the man standing in front of her desk now.

"Ducky?" she gave him a questioning look.

"Are you alright, my dear?" he asked as he studied her face.

"I am fine," she replied and tried harder to compose herself, though she hadn't been aware she'd been showing anything but stoicism. "Was there something you needed?"

"Actually, I came up here to speak with you, if you're not too busy," he said. "But I understand you're up here by yourself."

"I can take a break for a few minutes," she gave him a small smile as she stood. "I need coffee, anyway." Ducky followed her as she strolled toward the vending machines. "What did you need to speak to me about?"

"Tony," he replied, and she slowed, almost imperceptibly. "He's quite worried about Timothy," he continued as they reached the break area.

"Should he not be?" she asked as she furrowed a brow at the 'out of order' sign taped to the coffee machine. She turned to the soda machine and slipped a bill into the slot, hitting the button for bottled water.

"He believes he might die," he said in a low voice. Ziva paused, crouched down in front of the dispenser, with her hand around the bottle.

"And what do you believe?" she asked as she slowly stood, turning around to face him.

"I believe...that this is causing him a lot more pain then we think," Ducky told her, referring to Tony. Ziva stepped closer to him and took a seat at the table.

"Do you believe that McGee will die?" she asked flatly. He sat down across from her.

"No," he replied.

"Is that your medical opinion, or your hope?"

"Both," he told her, furrowing his brow as he tried to understand what she was feeling. She looked down at her bottle and cracked open the top.

"Did you tell this to Tony?" she asked before picking the bottle up to her lips and taking a drink.

"I did. But I suspect he will continue to expect the worse."

"That is what he usually does," she replied, looking briefly across the table top. After a long moment of silent thought, she looked up at him. "Everyone keeps telling me that this is not my fault," she said in a low voice.

"That's because it's not," he cocked his head.

"I find it hard to convince myself that that is true," her eyes drifted slightly. He ducked his head a bit as he considered her statement.

"What you're really finding to be difficult, is to be angry at Tim," he told her, and her eyes shot back to his. "Once you stop blaming yourself, there's only one other person to point a finger at."

"He was only trying to protect us," she retorted. "He did not realize the danger he was putting himself into. I should have been able to see it."

"You're right about one thing, Ziva. He didn't know. It wasn't his fault. But you're wrong to blame yourself when it would've happened to any one of us had it been our shift."

"Do you honestly believe that, Ducky?" she asked a little louder then she meant to. "Do you think that you or Tony or even Gibbs would have been so blind to his pain?"

"I believe that if any of us could possibly understand what it looks like to hide such great pain from those who care most about them, it would be you. And if you couldn't see it, then he was hiding it very well." She looked at him for a long moment before turning her gaze downward at the bottle in front of her.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"Taking a nap on one of my cold tables," he replied.

"He did not sleep well last night," she said, then immediately looked up at him, suddenly aware of what she'd just implied. But he didn't seem surprised.

"Perhaps when he wakes, you can try your hand and convincing him that he should have a little more hope for Timothy's recovery."

"How do I do that?" she asked.

"By having it, yourself."

* * *

_"Tony?" Tim's voice called from the darkness. _

_ "Where are you?" Tony asked as he squinted, as if it would help him to see._

_ "They're gone..."_

_ "I can't see you, McGee. Where are you?" he reached out, searching the darkness around him, listening for where the sound was coming from._

_ "Tony, it doesn't hurt anymore..." Tim's voice echoed. Tony swallowed as his stomach churned._

_ "Probie, you can't give up," he said as his heart began to beat faster._

_ "I'm sorry, Tony. I didn't mean to cause you pain."_

_ "Tim...please...where are you?"_

_ "It's quiet here...It's peaceful," his voice seemed to get farther away._

_ "Listen, Tim," Tony's voice cracked, "I know you've been through a lot...been in a lot of pain, but...please don't give up. Please..." _

_ "But _you've_ given up," he said. Tony flinched in the darkness; tears stinging his eyes._

_ "No...I'm not giving up on you, Probie. I promise I won't..." he waited for a reply, but was only answered with silence. "Probie?" he began to panic; trying to feel his way around in the dark, "McGee?!"_

*~.~*

Tony felt himself hit the floor, knocking the wind from him before his eyes opened to realize he was still in autopsy.

"Tony?" Palmer entered the darkened room and flicked on the lights. "Are you okay?" he asked as he approached him and crouched beside him on the floor. "What happened?"

"I-" he coughed as he tried to regain his breath, and held up a finger. "I think I...fell."

"From where?"

"Table," he rolled himself onto his back and Jimmy tried to help him, but Tony held his hand up. "Just gimme a minute, Palmer," he laid his head back on the floor.

"I'm guessing you were taking a nap," Jimmy said, then smirked. "I don't think anyone's ever fallen off one of those before." Tony made a face at him. "Guess it was bound to happen sometime." Palmer stood. "So, I heard Agent McGee's in the hospital. He okay?"

Tony suddenly recalled his dream and pulled himself up off the floor. "I gotta go," he said as he rushed out of autopsy and into the elevator. He pulled out his cell as the doors closed, and dialed Gibbs' number.

_"Yeah. Gibbs,"_ his boss's voice sounded on the other line.

"Boss...how's McGee?"

_"Same, far as I can tell," _he replied. _"Somethin' wrong?"_

"No," he swallowed, "Just...had a strange feeling."

_"He's gonna be okay, Tony."_

"Yeah. I...okay, Boss. Sorry."

_"You talk to Ducky?"_

"Yeah."

_"Find what you were lookin' for?"_ Tony considered the question for a moment.

"Actually, I think I did..."

* * *

"Did you have a good nap?" Ziva asked as Tony entered the bullpen and sat at his desk.

"I wouldn't exactly define it as 'good'," he said, returning the smirk. "Fell off the damn table." Ziva let out a small laugh, and he made a face at her.

"You are not hurt, are you?" she stood and walked to his desk.

"Just my pride," he smirked.

"Well, hopefully you will recover soon. Gibbs wants you to go home."

"What?"

"He wants you to get some sleep so you can go sit with McGee this evening. We do not have any cases lined up."

"What about you? You're gonna stay here by yourself the rest of the day?"

"I will be finishing up my report. Then I will be home. I'll be staying with McGee in the morning, when you will be finishing up your report."

"Oh," he looked down at his desk. Ziva cocked her head.

"Tony," she walked around to stand beside him, then sat on the edge of the desk, "You are worried about him." He looked back up at her.

"Shouldn't I be?"

"He will be okay," her eyes darted back and forth between his.

"Yeah. I hope so. But I'm still a little worried, yeah." She reached out to straighten his hair above his ear.

"So am I," she told him. "Go home, Tony. I will see you in a few hours, okay?" He nodded in acknowledgment, and gathered his things, then headed toward the elevator.

* * *

**Good Lord, I am tired beyond words...I'll try and continue tomorrow. Had some unfortunate problems with an ex today, and got very distracted. Didn't realize how freakin' exhausted I was until I proof-read this and saw all my mistakes! But I think I fixed them all. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, though not much was resolved lol. I'll make the next one all the longer :)**


	18. Chapter 18

Tony DiNozzo entered the ICU room where McGee was still sedated, and his boss had nodded off in the chair beside the bed. "Hey, Boss," Tony gently touched the man's shoulder and Gibbs lifted his head and opened his eyes to look up at him.

"What time is it?" Gibbs asked, trying to focus on his watch.

"About eight."

"Musta dozed off half an hour ago," he said, glancing over at the sleeping agent before standing. "You get any sleep?" he turned to Tony.

"Tried," he smirked. "Figured I'd catch some here anyway." Gibbs nodded.

"Need anything before I go?"

"I'm good, Boss," he said as he sat down in the chair. "Called Ziva as I headed here. She was just leaving work." Gibbs nodded in acknowledgment, and glanced over at the laptop on the side table.

"I'll see you in the morning," he said as he turned and walked out. Tony looked over where Gibbs had looked a moment ago, and reached over to pull the computer into his lap.

"Got any good games on here, Probie?" he sent a small grin in the direction of his friend as the laptop powered on. He watched the steady rise and fall of his chest and took comfort in the light beeping of the monitor next to him.

The brightness of the laptop screen pulled his attention back to it, and he realized a document was open. At first, he thought it was the one McGee had left. But upon closer inspection, he realized it was new. The file name was _TWSS_, but no title was left on the page itself to indicate what it meant.

Tony read the words that painted the screen, concluding that the signed 'G' was for 'Gibbs', and that he'd written it. He scratched the back of his head as he pieced together what the file name stood for. And if it was in accordance to Tim's file, he surmised it meant, 'Things We Should've Said'.

After a long moment, Tony pressed 'enter' a few times, bringing the cursor down a bit from the end of the letter, and began typing out his own. It felt therapeutic, almost, as he spoke his mind onto the page. And all the while, he never for a moment felt that Tim wouldn't see it. McGee would wake up and read all of this... he had to. He wasn't giving him a choice.

At the end of his letter, he signed it at first with a 'D', but erased it as he smirked. Ziva would be there in the morning, and he'd make sure she would write something of her own. So he replaced it with a 'T', then saved the document before minimizing it and closing the top. He set it back down on the table and pulled out his cell.

Opening the game folder, he decided to play Tetris. The game always ensured his mind would be occupied from unwanted thoughts. But he managed to glance at McGee between levels, hoping that maybe he would wake up just for a little while. Long enough to hear his voice, or say something... But at the same time, he didn't want him to wake up just yet; not if it meant he would feel the obvious pain the doctors were trying to help him avoid.

Eventually, it was difficult to keep his eyes open any longer, and he closed his phone and curled himself up in the chair. Behind his eyelids, he could still see the the falling blocks, and he continued to play the game in his mind until he was overcome by sleep...

* * *

"Tony," he heard a voice call his name and it pulled his slowly from his slumber. "Hey...Tony," he heard it again and he cracked open his eyes to find the culprit.

"What're you doin' here, Palmer?" he sat as he straightened up in the chair. The light coming from the window behind him indicated it was morning. "This is supposed to be Ziva's watch."

"Agent Gibbs sent me here to take over," he explained. "There's a big case and he needs both of you. Abby and Doctor Mallard as well. He said he tried to call you, but it kept going straight to voice mail." Tony picked up his phone and examined it.

"Guess I drained the battery playing games on it all night," he smirked as he stood. "I've got a charger in the car. Did they say where they were going?"

"NAVSEA," he told him. Tony cocked his head.

"Carderock?"

"Yeah. Gibbs said to call him when your phone is on."

"Okay," he started toward the door.

"Hey, Tony?" Palmer said, and Tony turned around. "Agent McGee...he's gonna be okay, right?" he asked as he looked at the sleeping patient. Tony narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, Jimmy. He's gonna be fine."

* * *

"Hey, Boss," Tony said once his phone booted up as it charged. "I'm on my way."

_"Crime scene is on the roof," _Gibbs told him. _"You got your gear with you?"_

"In my trunk. NAVSEA, Boss...must be bad. What are we lookin' at?"

_"Triple homicide," _he explained. _"Bodies have been up here at least two hours."_

"Employees?"

_"All three. No witnesses."_

"Be there in five."

* * *

"I just don't understand," the blonde-headed female, fellow NAV employee told Ziva, who was taking pictures of the scene. "Why would anyone kill them?"

"That is what were are going to find out," Ziva told her. "Did you know them well?"

"They worked in my department," she nodded. "We just had lunch together last week," her eyes became red and glassy.

"With all of these men?" she asked, as Ducky began to roll one of the bodies to the elevator shaft on the gurney.

"Uh...yeah. There was another guy with us, too."

"From your department?" Ziva turned her full attention to the woman now.

"Yes."

"What is your department?"

"We design environmental quality systems."

"Were you working on anything that would be considered valuable? Information, perhaps, that would spark certain interests?"

"No," she shook her head. "Do you think...do you think someone killed them because of what we were working on? That doesn't make any sense..." her eyes darted around in thought. "Oh..." she furrowed her brow.

"What is it?" Ziva asked and she saw Gibbs approach them. The woman looked back up at her.

"Harold Mainly," she said.

"Who?"

"The other guy that was at lunch with us...he was let go that day..."

"Do you know why?" Ziva asked.

"Something about a discrepancy in the design. These men worked closely with him... You don't think..."

"When was the last time you saw him?" Gibbs asked, and she looked over at him.

"He came in yesterday to pick up his check," she explained. "He said he was being reassigned; that he was flying out this morning, but I don't recall if he said where."

"He may have been making a cover," Ziva said as she turned to Gibbs.

"Or a getaway plan," he started to turn as he pulled out his phone. "Call McGee," he told her and she flinched. "Tell him to put a BOLO out on this guy and..." he realized what he'd said, then, and he paused, letting his head fall slightly before he turned back to Ziva. "Call Abby," he corrected. "Tell her to do the BOLO and alert the closest airports." When she nodded, he turned back around and dialed Tony's number as he walked closer to the edge of the building and looked down.

_"Hey, Boss. Just pulling up now." _Gibbs looked up and down the long expansion of the rooftop. The building they stood on was longer than a football field, and at least as wide. Even larger buildings beside it, perpendicular and twice as long, seemed to go on for miles. That building was where the ships were designed. But this was the office building, and there were obstructions along roof. Something churned in his gut...a feeling... _"Boss?"_

"Grab vests outta the van," he told him.

_"Uh... need keys." _Gibbs looked back down over the ledge.

"Look up, DiNozzo," he said as he saw Tony down below, and he fished the keys from his pocket and dangled them over the edge. "You gonna catch these?"

_"Forgot my catcher's mitt," _he smirked, _"Yeah, I got it." _he ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket and held out his hands as Gibbs dropped the keys. Tony let out a small yelp when the metal hit hard against his fingers, but sucked it up and turned toward the van. His cell chirped again and he picked it up as he opened the back of the van.

_"Come up the west side," _Gibbs told him. _"There's a fire escape on that wall. And watch your back. I'll head that way from here."_

"Got it," he said and ended the call as he slipped on one of the vests and pulled two others under his arm.

*~.~*

"Ziva," Gibbs said as he approached them again, "Get her back inside the building," he motioned to the woman. Ziva complied and led the woman back to the stairwell door and returned to Gibbs who was making his way west on the rooftop.

"Gibbs?" she asked, curiously.

"Got a feeling he's still here," he explained as he drew his weapon, but held it at his side. She mimicked the action and began to search the left side of the expansion as he took op the right. "Tony's comin' up from the west end," he told her.

*~.~*

Tony reached the top of the fire escape, only slightly out of breath, and climbed out onto the roof. It was a bit chilly up there, but his jacket and the exertion of stair-climbing, canceled that out. He readjusted the vests under his other arm and walked toward the front end of the building as he went to pull out his gun, when he suddenly saw someone come out from behind a cinder-block ventilation tower, not five feet beside him...

He turned around quickly, holding his gun out in front of him, "NCIS! Drop your weapon!" he yelled, but the man fired quickly before Tony got a shot off. The momentum of the bullet that hit him, added with the recoil of his own weapon, threw him back...

*~.~*

At the sound of gun-fire, Gibbs and Ziva shared a split-second glance before taking off on a full-speed run toward the west end. Weapons out in front of them, they found the man who'd been taken down and Ziva kicked the gun away from him and crouched down to take his pulse.

"He is dead," she said.

"Where's DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, and they both looked over toward the edge of the building. Two vests and Tony's gun lay there on the ground, but Tony was no where to be seen. Gibbs rushed toward the edge of the building and peered down. Struck with eminent fear, he saw Tony...laying motionless on the grass, sixteen feet down...

"Tony!" Ziva shouted when she saw what he'd seen, and they both wasted no time getting to the fire escape. Ziva whipped out her cellphone as they scrambled down, calling for an ambulance, shouting insistent orders at the operator.

Gibbs reached Tony first, kneeling down beside the unconscious man. Blood had trickled from his agent's nose. "Tony!" he shouted, hoping for some kind of response. His fingers felt for a pulse. Finding one immediately, he was washed with relief. But he didn't see his chest rise and fall as it should be... Gibbs put his ear down in front of Tony's face, trying to hear for sounds of breathing, and saw Ziva at Tony's other side.

"Is he breathing?" she asked worriedly.

"Barely," Gibbs said as he sat back up. "Tony? Can ya hear me?" They were both surprised to see Tony's eyes snap open, and he desperately tried to suck in air.

"Tony..." Ziva's hands started to reach for his face, but Gibbs stopped her.

"Don't touch him, Ziver," he said and she looked at him. "If he's got a broken neck or spine...moving him could paralyze him," 'If he's not already...' Gibbs thought. The possibility caused his stomach to churn. "Can you hear me, DiNozzo?" he asked again.

"Ye...Boss..." he breathed. Tony's eyes darted around and up the tall height of the building.

"Don't even try to move," Gibbs directed. "Chopper's on its way."

"Cho...chopper?" he asked as he tried to catch his breath. It seemed impossible to breathe... He was too afraid to try to move.

"Get you to the hospital faster," he replied.

"My God," Ducky said as he approached the agents from the M.E van, and saw Tony lying there. "Did he fall from..." he looked up at the building.

"He shot me..." Tony said and they looked down at him again, Gibbs now noticing the hole in his agent's jacket. He carefully unzipped it and was thankful he'd been wearing the vest. "Knocked me...over," he told him.

"You're gonna be okay," Gibbs told him. 'Please, God, let him be okay,' he thought. "Duck, call Palmer and tell him to get down here to help you get the rest of those bodies back to NCIS," he said as he stood. "Ziva, call Vance. Tell him to send out another team to take over. Tell him why. And brief him on our findings. Just need everything brought back to NCIS."

Ziva stood and pulled out her phone as she walked a few feet away from them. Gibbs crouched back down beside Tony, whose eyes seemed even more troubled. "Don't remember...hitting the ground, Boss." Gibbs narrowed his eyes, unsure of how to respond. "Back of my head...hit somethin'," he looked at Gibbs.

"Besides the ground?" he gave a small smirk.

"Think so..." They heard the chopper in the distance and Gibbs looked up into the sky to locate it. "Boss," Tony squeaked. Gibbs looked back down at him. "McGee ...needs to have someone there."

"We'll be there, Tony. Don't worry about him right now." The chopper was on the ground, and paramedics rushed out and over to Tony. Gibbs stood and moved out of the way as he watched them surround his agent. He watched as Tony seemed to panic under the scrutiny of the EMTs.

"What's your name, Sir," one of the men asked as they carefully fit a neck brace on him.

"Anthony DiNozzo Jr.," he replied.

"Do you know what year it is?" he asked as another medic fit a blood pressure cuff around his arm.

"2010," he replied and looked around at all of them.

"Who's the president of the United States?"

"Thomas J. Whitmore," he replied. The paramedic furrowed a brow at him, as did Gibbs. But Tony cracked a smile, "Just kidding. That was the president in... Independence Day, played by ...Bill Pullman." The medic glanced up at Gibbs.

"His sense of humor wasn't damaged," Gibbs smirked. The medic nodded and looked back at Tony, expectantly. Tony's smile faded.

"Obama," he answered.

"Are you experiencing any pain?" he asked.

"I just fell off a building," he laughed, then immediately stopped and swallowed at the pain that just became all the more obvious. His eyes widened slightly as his jaw clenched. "Yes," he squeaked out. Gibbs paced behind the medics, only taking his eyes from Tony for a moment as Ziva walked back toward him.

"Can you tell me where the pain is?" the medic asked. Gibbs watched Tony's eyes dart around in thought, presumably trying to determine the answer.

"All...everywhere..." he blinked.

"Said he hit his head on the way down," Gibbs told him.

"Okay, Agent DiNozzo," the medic said, "We're gonna get you onto this stretcher now, and get you on the chopper." The medic stood and picked up a receiver from the radio on his hip. "We have incoming to Bethesda," he said into the radio, and looked up the side of the building. "Fall from approximately sixteen feet; high BP; slightly elevated heart rate; possible head trauma. Extent of injuries unknown at this time." Tony's eyes shot to Gibbs, then to Ziva. They recognized the fear in his eyes as he was shifted onto the gurney, then lifted.

"Don't ...tell Abby about this, yet," Tony worriedly told Gibbs. "She's got enough ...on her mind." Gibbs' eyes narrowed. Here Tony was, getting ready to be airlifted to the hospital, and he was worried about everyone else.

"I won't," he assured him. The medics began pulling him to the craft.

"Boss!" Tony yelled, and Gibbs followed the men who were carrying him.

"It's okay, Tony," he reassured him.

"What's gonna happen to me?" his voice cracked with his question. Gibbs didn't have an answer, but followed as they loaded him into the chopper.

"We're gonna be right behind you," Gibbs told him. And right before the door was closed, he saw a tear fall from Tony's eyes, down his temple to his ear.

Gibbs backed away from the chopper as it started up and began it's flight upward. He seemed frozen as he watched it get further and further away. His heart was pounding in his ears; guilt washing over him like a tidal wave...

"Gibbs," he turned at Ziva's voice. "Vance is almost here. He told us we can go," she took his arm. Her face showed no fear, but he knew it was there. Turning himself toward the van, he lead the way back across the grass.

* * *

Tony closed his eyes against the feeling of the chopper moving down. He kept them squeezed shut when they opened the door, and when he felt himself lifted and set down; moved into the elevator. He only opened them when the elevator stopped and he felt himself being moved forward again. But he quickly closed his eyes again when the overhead lights caused his head to hurt.

The medics had managed to remove his vest in the chopper. And now he could feel the rest of his clothes being cut off of him, being replaced with...possibly a blanket, but he couldn't tell for sure.

There was a swarm of voices around him. He felt himself lifted and placed down on another surface and he opened his eyes. "Mr. DiNozzo," a female voice said, and he looked to his right at the middle-aged doctor that stood beside him. "I'm Doctor Lowe. We're going to do a full CT scan to see if anything is broken. All you have to do is hold still, alright?"

"I think I can handle that," he smirked. She smiled at him.

"You're in good spirits for having fallen sixteen feet."

"I'm alive, right?" he grinned. She gave a small laugh.

"You certainly are. Now, if you become uncomfortable or experience any pain, just speak up. There's a mic inside of the machine that'll allow us to hear you. And we'll be able to talk to you as well." He watched her as she began to turn, but flinched when she seemed to simply disappear before his eyes.

Tony closed his eyes and breathed. The urge to move was overwhelming, but the fear that it could paralyze him if he did, held him still. He felt the bed move him into the machine, and only opened his eyes when it stopped.

Suddenly, he felt trapped... nervousness crept over him as the sounds began. Mostly because of the uncertainty of the outcome. This scan would reveal what could quite possibly change the rest of his life... 'What if my back is broken? Or my neck? What if I can never work again?' where just a few of the hundreds of questions running through his mind.

"How long does this usually take?" he asked.

_"For you, probably not more than an hour," _the doctor's voice rang through the speaker. Tony closed his eyes against the tears that started filling them. _"You can go to sleep, if you can manage with the noise," _she offered.

"Okay," he barely whispered. He had to make himself think of something else, or that wouldn't happen.

Tony's thoughts drifted to Ziva. His beautiful ninja... If he was paralyzed, he would never be able to hold her again... never be able to... He would lose her... Sadness filled his chest and he could barely hold back the urge to sob.

He forced himself to stop; think of something else...someone else. Gibbs came into his mind. He recalled the helpless look in his boss's eyes before they shut the chopper hatch. Gibbs might have been more scared then _he_ was. He was like a father to Tony...all these years. But... the fate of his future with NCIS would rely on the results of this scan. What would Gibbs be to him if he could never return to work?

No...he couldn't let himself think that way. Tony couldn't let himself even consider the possibility that his entire life, the people he considered family, and the place he considered home, could be snatched away in 'probably not more than an hour'.

McGee... He would find some way to blame himself for this. As if the guy wasn't in enough pain. Tony couldn't let that happen. Suddenly he found himself angry. Angry at himself.

"I shouldn't have been standing so close to the ledge," he said.

_"Excuse me?"_ the doctor's voice sounded. And he realized he'd said it out loud.

"I said, I... should've been more careful."

_"What happened, by the way? How did you fall?"_

"I was looking for a suspect," he explained. "He found me first. I was wearing a vest, but the shot pushed me over."

_"It's remarkable that you can recall the event. Doesn't happen too often."_

"Well, I don't remember hitting the ground," he told her. "But I remember hitting the back of my head on something almost right after going over. Then everything went black." There was silence on both ends for a few moments.

_"That could actually be a very good thing," _he heard her say.

"How's that?" he furrowed his brow as he listened.

_"I've seen cases where the patient faints or loses consciousness before hitting the ground. It __causes the body to relax, instead of bracing itself."_

"How does that change anything?"

_"Internal injury is less likely to happen. Like broken or fractured bones."_

"Well...that would mean...I could be okay?" he asked, a tiny spark of hope in his voice.

_"I can't guarantee that you didn't break anything. In fact, I can't really be sure you lost consciousness before you hit the ground. You may just remember it differently." _Tony felt the spark disappear. _"But I _can_ say, seeing you before we put you in there, you didn't seem to have any obvious breaks. And surprisingly enough, no visible open wounds. So, you could be right. But let's wait until we have a chance to go over your scan, before we jump to any conclusions."_

Tony tried to hold on to some of that hope, even if it turned out not to be true. He took a deep breath, trying to block out the sound of the machine. Eventually, he gave in to the feeling of being drawn to sleep...

* * *

Gibbs made it to Bethesda in record time, but it didn't seem to matter. They didn't have anything to tell them yet. He paced up and down the hall in front of the radiology waiting area. Ziva stood facing the window, focusing on nothing in particular, escaping her thoughts of worry, with thoughts of anything else.

"Shouldn't have sent him up there alone," she heard Gibbs say, and she turned around to see his continued pacing. She wasn't sure if he'd meant to say that out loud. "He was here all night," he glanced at her when he realized she was facing him now. He paused his movement and looked somewhere in the air between them. "Probably didn't even sleep."

"This is not your fault, Gibbs," she said, taking a few steps toward him. He squinted at her.

"I'm not tryin' to play the blame game. I made the call. It was _my_ order he was following, and he could be payin' for that the rest of his life," his eyes were red and his voice was laced with anger; the tell-tale sign that he was, indeed, afraid.

"Then this is really _my_ fault," she said flatly. He squinted and made a questioning face. "Tony was here all night to watch McGee. McGee is here because I did not see past his charade of hiding his pain. So I suppose it is also _his_ fault, yes?"

"Don't start that, Ziva," he stepped closer to her with narrowed eyes.

"I am simply trying to prove a point," she said sternly, without backing down from Gibbs' glare. "Tony could have pulled out his gun a second earlier. Or he could never have been called to the scene, and Harvey could have taken shots at _us_, without vests to save us. The point is that there is no use in masking your fear with anger toward yourself," her voice cracked near the end of her argument, and she turned away from him to hide her face as it crumbled.

Gibbs flinched at the truth in her words. She was right; he _was_ afraid. Tony could lose everything...and they could lose _him._ He knew this was hard for her and he was probably making it worse. "I'm sorry, Ziver," he said, walking around to the front of her. And he saw her tears before she swiped them away, and pulled her into an embrace. "I'm sorry this is happening."

"I don't mean to interrupt," they turned toward the unfamiliar voice of a nurse. "You're here with Agent DiNozzo?"

"Yes," Ziva said.

"It's going to be at least another half hour until they're finished with the CT scan. I can give you a call when they're finished, if you'd like to head down to the cafeteria for coffee or something. I just need a number."

"My number's in his file," Gibbs told her. "Next of kin. Leroy Jethro Gibbs." The nurse nodded and turned to walk away. Gibbs turned to Ziva. "I told him I'd make sure McGee wasn't alone. I'm gonna go see him."

"I will go with you."

* * *

**so tired... hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks to everyone who has left reviews! Makes me happy to keep writing through the delirium :)**


	19. Chapter 19

**Special thanks to reviewers: smartkid37, cutezipie, , ncischick09, ncisfan89, jgomez921, shelbylou, siltrana, azilee, gsr4ever, chelsea1234, vulcangirl1983, precious pup, julie507, chocolatery, kittyknighton, betherick1985, and sparkiebunny! I love you all :)**

* * *

_"...wait until we get him back to his room..."_

_ "...much more fun..." _

_ "What are you doing...why..." Tim could barely hear the voices anymore. They drifted in and out. He felt clouded and disoriented...like that night... "Please...leave me alone..."_

_ "...won't remember it anyway..."_

_ "Please...no...Tony, help me!"_

_ "I can't find you, Probie..." Tony's voice was distant and barely audible. "I'm sorry..."_

_ "No...no please. Please make them stop!" Tim panicked._

_ "Remember where you are," Aiden's voice rang out._

_ "I- I don't remember..." Tim said as he frantically tried to think._

_ "Concentrate on what you feel in your hand," he heard Gibbs' voice._

_ "I- there's nothing! I don't feel anything!" he clamped his eyes shut._

_ "You're not in that elevator..." he heard Gibbs say. Tim opened his eyes. He was on the deck, and Gibbs was in front of him._

_ "Boss?" he was confused, but glad to have been pulled from his nightmare. "Have I been asleep all this time?" he asked him._

_ "Still are," Gibbs told him. "If you think harder, you'll remember where you are. But you don't have to go there right now, if you're comfortable."_

_ "I am," he replied, then looked around. "Where's Tony?" he asked. Gibbs didn't answer. The look on his boss's face told him something wasn't right. "Boss, where is he?" Gibbs looked down at his feet._

_ "Still no word?" he heard Ziva's voice and turned his head to see her come out onto the deck._

_ "No," Gibbs replied flatly. _

_ "I will go get coffee," she offered and turned to leave. Tim focused on Gibbs again._

_ "Did something happen?" he was frightened now. But Gibbs just looked at him, without a reply. Tim clamped his eyes closed again. "I don't wanna be here anymore," he said through clenched teeth. "I wanna go back...I'm in the hospital..."_

* * *

Gibbs watched McGee squirm in the hospital bed in front of him. It was difficult to know this man was in so much pain, and he could do nothing about it. Thinking back, he realized that he could also be having the nightmare, and he stood and moved closer to the bed as Tim only seemed to become more frantic. Gibbs took his hand.

"It's okay, McGee," he told him. "You're not in that elevator. You're in the hospital." With that, McGee opened his eyes and sat forward a bit.

"Boss," he breathed as if he'd just chased after a suspect.

"I'll get the nurse," Gibbs started to move, but Tim held tightly to his hand.

"No," he said and he met his eyes. "What happened?"

"You have an infection-"

"Not with me," he clarified, shaking his head as if to clear it. "What happened to Tony?" Gibbs flinched at the question and moved back to his original position beside the bed.

"Why would you think something happened to Tony?" he asked with narrowed eyes. Tim closed his eyes with a furrowed brow as he tried to think. He opened them a moment later.

"He's always there," he said.

"Can't be here all the time, Tim."

"No...I mean he's always there to pull me out," he met his boss's eyes again. "In the dream..." Gibbs flinched again and pulled the chair closer so he could sit. "This time he said he couldn't find me. I...I have this strange feeling...," he told him. The same distant stare Gibbs gave him in the dream, made him feel sick. "Please, Boss. If something happened, you gotta tell me."

Gibbs' stomach churned. His eyes focused on his agent's hand as he thought. He knew this was going to be hard for Tim to hear, but he couldn't keep it from him either. McGee would only come to his own conclusions and that would be worse. Could it be worse?

"We don't know anything, yet," he began as his eyes met Tim's. "Won't know for a little while."

"What. Happened?" his eyes were serious and firm.

"He fell," he replied, his eyes twitching a bit as he recalled it. "Bullet hit his vest and pushed him over." Tim looked at him in question. But it took a few moments for Gibbs to continue. "He was standing close to the edge of the building." McGee flinched as his eyes began searching the air between them.

"What building?" he asked. Gibbs knew why. He wanted to know how steep the fall.

"Sixteen feet," he told him, and he felt Tim's hand clamp down on his.

"Where is he?" he asked as his breath became labored again.

"Here," Gibbs told him. "They're assessing his injuries now." Tim swallowed down the bile that began to rise in his throat, as he went over the possibilities in him mind. His hand left Gibbs' and went to his face, pressing his palm against his eye for a moment before returning it to his lap.

"Where did he land?" he inquired as he looked back at Gibbs. His boss flinched as he recalled the answer.

"When I found him, he was lyin' in the grass on his back," he told him, and saw McGee's face pale. Gibbs frantically searched his mind for any good news he could give. "He was talkin'," he told him. "Didn't seem to have any problem recalling information."

"He was conscious?" Tim confirmed. Gibbs nodded.

"Even crackin' jokes," he smirked. The statement seemed to ease Tim's mind for a moment. And seemingly for the first time, McGee noticed his other arm. The sight was surreal and a bit frightening. He hadn't realized, before now, that it was secured down so he couldn't move it. But he understood why. From the crook of his elbow, down to his wrist, were two blood-filled plastic tubes, taped down on either end.

"What is this, Boss?" he asked without looking away from the monstrosity. Gibbs swallowed, realizing that Tim was the only one who didn't know what had happened to him.

"It's cleaning your blood," he told him. McGee turned to look at him in question. "The pain you were hiding, you had an infection from the surgery. Caused you to become septic." Tim's brow furrowed. He knew what that meant. But he was also confused.

"But I was on antibiotics..."

"Duck says you were resistant to them for some reason. They've got you on something different now. Seems to be workin'."

"I'm sorry, Boss," he said, regretting the hiding of his pain even more now.

"I understand," he assured him. "Don't do it again."

"I won't," his gaze drifted back to him arm.

"You in pain right now?" Gibbs asked. After a moment of silence, Tim nodded without looking at him. "They can't give you anything for it, which is why they've been sedating you."

"I don't wanna be sedated anymore, Boss," he said. "Not until we know more about what's happening to Tony."

"Can't sit around in that much pain," Gibbs said. Tim turned to him again.

"I don't want to be sedated," his voice cracked. "I just...need to know he's gonna be okay."

They were interrupted from their thoughts when Gibbs' cell rang. He pulled it out and looked at the ID, glancing briefly at McGee before answering.

"Yeah, Gibbs." Tim searched his boss's face as he listened to the voice on the other line. "I'll be there in a minute." The call ended. "You gonna be okay till Ziva gets back up here?" he asked. He nodded.

"Tony?"

"He's outta radiology. Going to sit with him till they know somethin'."

"You'll tell me as soon as they do?" he asked with a furrowed brow. Gibbs nodded after a moment. Then he looked over at the laptop and decided to hand it to him.

"Keep your mind busy," he told him, then turned to walk out. Tim looked down at the computer after Gibbs was out of sight, and opened it to power it on...

* * *

When Tony woke up, he realized he was no longer in the CT machine. He was grateful for that much, but a little anxious that he seemed to be alone. He felt the brace still around his neck...that couldn't be a good sign. But he didn't feel any pain.

He focused on the ceiling as best he could, and began counting the little dots on the tiles. He decided that if he finished counting those, and there was still no one in the room, he would let himself panic a little.

But no sooner did he begin, before he heard footsteps approaching him bed. "Who's there?" he called out.

"Just me," Gibbs said, and he suddenly came into view beside him. "How ya feelin'?"

"I've been worse," he smirked. "They gave me a pain killer, I assume. Don't feel much of anything." Gibbs flinched at that and Tony seemed to switch over to the negative possibility of that symptom, and felt panic hit him like a ton of bricks.

Gibbs watched as Tony's sudden change of breath pattern became a sign of his distress; his eyes darting around aimlessly. "Hey," Gibbs said, placing his hand high on Tony's arm. "Calm down. Everything's gonna be okay." Tony met his eyes; his brow furrowed for a moment.

"Are you touchin' my arm?" he asked. Gibbs narrowed his eyes and looked down at his hand before looking back at him. Hesitantly, he nodded. "I can feel it," he said with a glimmer of hope. Gibbs was going to respond, but saw movement from the corner of his eye and turned to see a female doctor come in and walk to the other side of Tony's bed. When she stopped there, Tony flinched as if she'd appeared out of no where and startled him.

"I have some good news for you," the familiar voice said. "The scans showed no signs of fracture along your spine, or anywhere else. Looks like that bump on the head may have saved you after all," she smiled. Tony seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Can you take this thing off of me then?" he asked.

"Of course," she reached over and removed the straps. "Why don't you go ahead and pull it off," she told him as she put her arms back down to her sides. Gibbs took his hand away from Tony's arm and watched him hesitantly pull his arms up out in front of him. He grabbed onto the brace and pulled it off with ease.

"Only you," Gibbs said to Tony, "Could fall sixteen feet and walk away unscathed," he smirked. Tony returned the smirk, happy he could turn his head again.

"Well, not completely unscathed," the doctor said. Tony and Gibbs looked back at her. "The CT scan showed some minor swelling around the occipital lobe, where you hit your head." Tony pushed himself back a bit on the bed so he could sit up straighter as the doctor pulled out a small flashlight.

"What's that mean, exactly?" Tony asked.

"Well, it could mean a lot of things," she began, "But I had a theory when I met you in radiology that I'd like to test," she didn't turn on the light, but held the device vertically out in front of him. "I want you to track this as I move it, okay?" Tony nodded and looked at the thing in her hand.

But he didn't see her move it. Instead, suddenly her hand and the flashlight were stopped about a foot to the right, and he blinked rapidly, pushing himself back a little in confusion. "What the hell?" his brow furrowed at he looked back over at her. Gibbs was equally confused.

"Don't panic," she assured him as he reached over to the side table and picked up a magazine. "This could just be temporary until the swelling goes down. It's called Movement Agnosia. The occipital lobe is the part of your brain that interprets what we see. When it's compromised, it sometimes causes problems processing the information," she held out the magazine to him, and without looking at it, he took it from her. "I want you to open to a random page and read from it. Doesn't have to be out loud."

Tony seemed confused by the request, but opened the first page and held it in front of his face. Gibbs watched Tony's face as it showed confusion. He flipped to the next page, then the next. His face changed from confusion to panic. "What...I...I don't know what any of this says," he didn't tear his eyes away from the alien writing in front of him.

Gibbs glared at the doctor for answers. She gently took the magazine from Tony's hands, but his eyes remained fixed in the air where it had been. "Like I said, this could only be temporary. I just wanted you to know before you had to find out in a, possibly, more difficult way. A nurse will be in shortly with some anti-inflammatory meds we'll be giving you through an IV."

"How long do I have to stay in here?" Tony asked flatly.

"I'd like to keep you here for observation until the swelling goes down. Probably forty-eight hours."

"Look, I don't have time for this," Tony said, aggravation thick in his voice. "I have a friend in ICU and I need to be there for him."

"I'm sure he'll understand," she said.

"No. _You_ don't understand. I need to make sure he's okay."

"He's okay, Tony," Gibbs said and he looked over at him. "In fact, he's worried about _you_."

"You told him? Wait...he's awake?"

"Yeah, I told him. He already had a feelin' somethin' was wrong," he looked up at the doctor. "Any way he can go down there for a while?" The doctor considered his request.

"Who is the patient?" she asked.

"Agent Timothy McGee," Tony answered. She straightened.

"Sepsis patient?" she confirmed, "He's sedated."

"Actually, he's awake and refusing sedation until he can see DiNozzo," Gibbs told her. Tony looked back at his boss and heard the doctor sigh.

"Take him down there in a wheelchair," she said, "But be back up here so we can give him the meds. You have ten minutes. Any longer and I _will_ sic the hounds on you," she smirked.

* * *

_Tim,_

_ I know you're concerned about the well-being of your friends, but your pain affects us. Hiding it from us affects us even more. I think you know that. Especially now. _

_ I'm sure you've realized by now that we found what you wrote. So, this is me telling you start saying it out loud instead of venting to a machine. We told you we're here for you, and there's nothing you could say or do to make us walk away from that promise. _

_ I'm not gonna yell at you, or hold what happened against you. But don't do something else that'll make me have to do so in the future. Focus on getting through this, and we'll be right here with you through it all._

_ And in case DiNozzo didn't already say so, we love you too._

_ -G-_

_ Probie,_

_ I was kind of surprised to find this when I came here tonight, but I figured I'd add something. I was really scared when I came here to find you in so much pain. You made me think you weren't gonna make it. And that terrified me more than I can admit out loud. I guess I kinda get why you do this computer blogging stuff... makes it a lot easier to say what you feel without getting caught up in being embarrassed by what you're saying._

_ Anyway, today made me realize that I'd be really upset if we lost you. Something a little more traumatic then when we lost Kate. Don't get me wrong, I cared about her a lot. It hurt when she was gone. But I don't think I could sit in that bullpen and watch someone else at your desk. Not exactly sure what I'd do, but I can imagine it wouldn't be pretty._

_ I talked to Ducky earlier, and I gotta say, I'm kinda pissed at you. Making me think you were saying goodbye...you kinda sucked the hope outta me. But it's okay now. I figured out that it was the pain talking. Well, Ducky helped me figure it out. Then I fell off of the cold table...and don't laugh; it hurt. I was having this weird dream where you were giving up because _I_ had. Sounds kinda selfish in hindsight, but that's what my brain was telling me. So I fell off the table, and got a little sense knocked into me. _

_ I know you're gonna get through this and get better. And like Gibbs said, we're gonna be here with you through it all. Just try not to let it be in the hospital for too long...you know how much I hate this place. If you can manage that, I'll try not to smack you too hard once we get outta here. _

_ Get better soon._

_ -T-_

Tim was in tears by the end of the letter. Yeah, Tony hated the hospital. But now he wasn't here by his own volition. And he couldn't help but to turn that letter around to him. Tim couldn't imagine anyone filling Tony's desk. It was hard when Kate left. And Ziva took a while to get used to, but he really cared about her now.

Truth was, he didn't want someone else to fill Tony's desk. He didn't want to replace his friend. No one could replace Tony. Tony was half the reason he was the agent Tim had become...maybe more than half the reason. Nothing would be the same if he couldn't be there...

"McGee?" his head shot over to Ziva's voice as she came through the door. He quickly closed the laptop and wiped the tears from his face as she approached the bed. "Are you in pain? I can go get the doctor..."

"No," he said sternly. "Really, I'm okay. Can you put this on the table?" he asked as he handed her the computer. She nodded and took it from him. "Listen, yes I'm in pain, but no, don't get the doctor," he told her. "I'm sorry I lied to you before."

"You did more than lie," she said after she set the computer on the table. "You tricked me."

"I know. I'm sorry," he looked into her eyes. "Please forgive me?"

"I forgave you moments after I found out what you did," she took his hand. "I understand why. And I know you did not know what was happening until it was too late." He was relieved by her understanding. "Now, why do you not want me to get the doctor?"

"Because they'll put me back to sleep," he said, then furrowed his brow as he recalled why he wanted to be awake. "Gibbs went up to see Tony," he told her. "I wanna stay up until I know he's okay." The fear returned to Ziva's face as she thought of Tony. "Do you...think it's bad?" he said in a low voice.

"I do not know," she said in barely a whisper.

"Will you go see? I don't know how long they'll be, but...someone should stay with him. I don't wanna make Gibbs leave him alone just to fill me in."

"_You_ will be alone."

"I'm fine, Ziva, just go. It's not like I'm going anywhere," he gave her a small smile, and she didn't resist any longer. She made her way out the door and toward the elevator. But upon waiting impatiently for it to arrive, she ducked into the stairwell instead.

* * *

"You okay?" Gibbs asked Tony as he wheeled him into the elevator, seeing his closed eyes.

"Yeah, Boss. The constant moving is creeping me out a bit. It's like watching a really poorly edited horror film." Gibbs smirked, but only for a moment. "Just lemme know when we're about to get to his room."

"Okay," he said simply. The elevator began moving, and it was silent for a moment.

"Boss?"

"Right here," he said.

"Ya think...ya think this'll go away?" Gibbs was silent for a moment.

"If it doesn't, we'll figure it out," he said finally.

"I can't work like this," he said quietly.

"Stop thinkin' like that," Gibbs told him. "You coulda broke your neck today. Hell, you coulda died. You got your head banged up, but I'm pretty damn sure it's the same place I've been hittin' ya since the day you came to NCIS. Which means, it's probably built up a pretty good resilience." Tony could detect the smile in Gibbs' last sentence. He couldn't help his own smirk at that.

"You're probably right, Boss. Guess I should thank you, then." They doors opened up and Gibbs pushed Tony out into the hall; eyes still shut.

"We're here," Gibbs said quietly to him as they entered the room. Tony opened his eyes to see McGee with his eyes closed and his head back against his pillow.

"Thought you said he was awake?" Tony said, and saw Tim open his eyes immediately.

"Hey!" Tim smiled when he saw Tony, surprised that he wasn't bedridden.

"Hey, Probie," Tony said as his eyes focused elsewhere until Gibbs had the chair up next to the bed. "I hear you're givin' the nurses a hard time already," he smirked.

"Are you okay?" Tim looked him over.

"Didn't break my neck, if that's what you're worried about," he said, attempting to pull himself up.

"Hey, you don't have to prove it, Tony," he said, motioning for him to stay in his chair. "You fell off a building. Stop trying to be Superman." Tony grimaced as he settled back into the chair.

"I wasn't trying to fly, Probie."

"That's not what I meant. I meant stop trying to be tough when you've gotta be in serious pain."

"Look who's talkin'," he grinned. Even Gibbs smirked as he sat in the chair on the other side of the hospital bed.

"Guess you got me there," Tim smirked. "So did they find anything wrong? How the hell did you walk away from that without a scratch?"

"Didn't exactly walk away," Tony explained, "But I hit my head on the way down. Being unconscious saved the rest of me."

"Well...what about your head?"

"Doc said there's some swelling. Nothing major," he smirked. "But apparently it means I'm stuck here for a couple days. I wonder if they'd let me bunk here with you," he motioned to the empty bed across the room.

"That would be great, but I'd make for poor company," Tim said. "They wanna keep me sedated."

"Because you're in pain and they can't give you anything," Tony said. "Does that hurt?" he asked, motioning to the tubes in his arm.

"Not really," he replied. "And yes, I'm telling you the truth. I have a headache, my stomach hurts...I feel like someone kicked the crap out of me, but the arm...is fine," he smirked. Tony glanced at Gibbs for a moment.

"Boss, what're the chances you can convince the doc to let me stay down here?" Gibbs cocked his head.

"Less likely if I don't get you back up there now," he said as he stood. "Where'd Ziva go?" he asked McGee.

"Uh...went to look for you guys, actually," he seemed mildly disturbed that they were leaving already.

"Hey, McGee," Tony said as Gibbs took hold of the handles on the chair. "I'll be back down, soon as I can, okay? Sleepin' or not." Tim nodded with a small smile as he watched them leave. Within moments, a nurse came into the room.

"Is it possible," Tim asked, "To skip the sedatives?"

"If your blood pressure is in a normal state, then yes," she replied and went to the monitor. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Lot better then before I got here," he said.

"That's good. Means the antibiotics are doing their job."

"H-how long do I have to keep this in?" he asked, motioning to the tubes in his arm.

"We won't know until we can run some more blood tests. But my guess would be at least a couple more days. It looks like you can skip the sedatives for now," she told him. "But if you feel you need them, just press the call button, okay?" he nodded appreciatively. "You need me to bring you anything?"

"I'm good, thanks."

* * *

When Tony felt the wheelchair stop in the elevator, he opened his eyes. Gibbs pressed the button to the floor Tony needed to be on, and turned back toward his agent, who seemed suddenly disturbed as he stared in front of him.

"You okay?" he asked. Tony shook his head and Gibbs crouched down beside him. "What's wrong?" Tony was breathing hard and staring into the corner; his eyes welling with unshed tears. "DiNozzo!" he tried to get his attention, and Tony flinched.

"Boss, I..." his voice cracked, "I think I'm...hallucinating..." Gibbs looked into the corner Tony was glaring at, but saw nothing. But as he looked back at his agent, he realized what he must be seeing.

Tony saw McGee...he saw what he'd seen in his nightmare before falling from the cold table in autopsy... and he forced his eyes closed.

"Hey," Gibbs took his shoulder. "We're almost there. They'll figure this out, Tony." But Tony's eyes squeezed shut tighter as tears dripped down from them, and it made Gibbs' heart sink in his chest. He moved to the front of Tony and crouched down again; blocking anything that he might see in that corner. "Look at me," he said, and Tony opened his eyes and focused on the man in front of him. "You're stronger then this," he told him. "Your not Superman, but you can beat this. I'm no doctor, but if you don't believe you're gonna get better, it's gonna take a lot longer to happen. Find that hope you found for McGee, and put it where you need to right now."

Tony blinked rapidly to stop his tears, and nodded, "Okay, Boss," and wiped the tears from his face. "Can I...close my eyes again?" he said in a small voice.

"If you need to," he smirked as he stood, and ruffed the agent's head as he walked back around to the handles and spun the chair to face forward. Tony closed his eyes...

* * *

Ziva had just about panicked when she didn't find Tony in the room they'd directed her to. But the doctor explained where they'd gone, and she decided to wait for them to return. Her mind had been slightly eased when they told her he had no fractures or broken bones, but she knew not to become too optimistic before she could see for herself.

"Ziva's here," she heard Gibbs say and she looked toward the door as he wheeled Tony in. His eyes were closed.

"Hey, Zi," Tony gave his best grin and cracked his eyes open a bit as Gibbs stopped the chair.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as calmly as she could manage, standing to help him into the bed.

"Probably better than most people that fall sixteen feet off a building," he smirked, but grimaced as he was pulled up with both agents' help. "Please tell me I'm at least wearing boxers under this gown," he said as he felt the sudden breeze.

Ziva smirked and peeked behind the gown. He _was_ wearing boxers, but her smile faded at the sickly purple bruises that painted his back. She met Gibbs' eye as she turned Tony to sit on the bed, and Gibbs saw the bruises as well. He looked at Ziva again as Tony laid down on the bed.

"He fell, Ziver. Doctors woulda seen if somethin' was wrong."

"What?" Tony looked back and forth between them. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Gibbs told him. "Just some bruising. But like ya said, you fell off a building. I'll go see about some ice," he turned, but to Tony, he'd simply vanished. Tony closed his eyes and swallowed.

"Tony?" Ziva touched his arm, and he turned to look at her. "What is wrong?"

"I'm fine," he smiled.

"Do not do this to me," she said.

"Do what?"

"Try to hide your pain from me. McGee did that and look what happened to him." His smile slowly faded as he looked into her eyes.

"I'm sore as hell, Zi," he began, "But that's not what's bothering me." She looked at him in question as she sat on the edge of the bed. He looked away for a moment, then back to her. "There's something wrong with my brain."

"I have been saying that for years, Tony," she smirked. But his face remained serious and her smile faded. "Are you serious?" His eyes drifted down a bit.

"Doc says there's swelling. That it might just be temporary. But it's really kinda creepin' me out," he let out a small laugh to mask his fear. "I can't see things when they're moving," he swallowed, "I can't...read," his head shook.

She was about to respond, when a nurse came into the room with IV items and bags. "Agent DiNozzo, I'm Kyle," he said, "I'm here to give you your anti-inflammatory IV. Also have some pain killers coming for you." Ziva saw Gibbs at the door and he crooked a finger for her to come into the hall.

"I will be right back," she told Tony and turned to walk out. Tony's eyes had closed when the nurse came in, and he closed them again as Ziva walked away. He wished he could just keep them closed until this was all over...if this would ever be over...

*~.~*

"They're gonna move him to ICU," Gibbs said to her, quietly, "Managed to talk them into giving him the other bed in McGee's room."

"I promise not to ask how you convinced her," she smirked. He cocked his head.

"Actually, the only thing I did was request which room. They were already planning to send him there." She gave him a questioning look. "They wanna monitor for possible clotting."

"What?"

"Precautionary," he told her. "Don't. Worry. That's not what he needs," his eyes narrowed at her.

"What _does_ he need, Gibbs? Because I believe he is very afraid. I _know_ he is."

"Yeah, I know. But he'll do better if he's with McGee, 'cause he'll be too busy worrying about _him."_

* * *

**okay... I'm going out of town tomorrow afternoon, but im gonna do my best to have more up before then. And if it turns out I have nothing up before then, well i'll be back by sunday. Hope you enjoyed this chapter:)**


	20. Chapter 20

"Doctor Mallard," Palmer looked beside him at the M.E when he didn't answer. He and Ducky had been discussing the x-rays lit up in front of them that they'd taken of the abdominal cavity of one of the bodies they brought from NAV. One of the bullets had been difficult to find, and Duck was in the middle of a story, but had drifted off when the light came on behind the x-ray."Doctor Mallard?" Palmer tried again.

Ducky turned this time, suddenly pulled from his thoughts. "Sorry, Jimmy," he said as he turned to look over at the x ray again. "Seems I'm a bit...preoccupied with unpleasant scenarios."

"Unpleasant scenarios?" Jimmy gave him a questioning look, then suddenly realized what he'd been talking about. "You mean, Agent DiNozzo..."

"Yes, Mr. Palmer," Ducky replied, trying to busy himself with the x rays on the board.

"Well...Agent Gibbs would've called if they'd known anything yet," Jimmy tried to give some sort of comfort.

"Ah, there it is, Jimmy," Ducky said, pointing to the x ray. "Seems as though our elusive bullet took an interesting path of its own and ended up inside the liver."

The autopsy doors hissed open and both men turned their heads to see Gibbs walk in. He immediately looked at Ducky; a look that told him they needed to talk in private. The older man began to take off his gloves.

"Jimmy," he briefly turned to the boy, "Pull that slug out of Mr. Pointdexter's liver. I'll be back shortly," he said as he turned and threw the gloves in the trash and followed Gibbs into the hall. "How is Anthony?" he asked right away.

"No broken bones," Gibbs replied. The red in his eyes told Ducky there was more to be said, so he patiently listened. "He's got swelling in his brain," he continued, "The...op...whatever that part is that lets you understand what you see."

"I understand. He's begun showing symptoms of compromise, I take it?"

"Can't see movement," he explained, "Can't understand words on a page. He had a hallucination in the elevator at the hospital."

"I see. Well, this could only be temporary. But it's probably quite terrifying for him."

"Ya think?" he furrowed his brow. Ducky turned up his head slightly as he looked at his friend. "Sorry, Duck," Gibbs apologized. "Kinda on edge right now."

"Understandably so, Jethro. Half your team is lying in hospital beds with uncertain outcomes. You should go home; get some rest. I take it Ziva is there with him?"

"With _them_," he explained. "Got 'em both in the same room," he turned toward the elevator and pressed the button.

"I hope you'll take my advice and get some rest," Ducky said.

"Going to talk to Vance," he said as the doors opened and he stepped in. "Then I will."

* * *

"Go on in, Agent Gibbs," the secretary said, and Gibbs entered the office and shut the door behind him.

"How's Agent DiNozzo?" Vance asked as he stood, placing his hands on his hips.

"Shaken up, but alive," he told him. But Vance didn't seem satisfied with the answer. "Nothing broken," he added. "Has some swelling they wanna monitor for at least a couple days."

"Nothing broken? David said he'd fallen off the top of the NWSC building."

"Knocked unconscious before he hit the ground," he explained, "Doc said it saved the rest of him."

"So I take it the swelling's in his brain?" Vance inquired, and Gibbs paused a moment before nodding in acknowledgment. "Again I ask, how's he doing?"

"Everything he's experiencing is visual," he told him. "They don't know if it's permanent damage until the swelling goes down." Vance took a breath and let it out slowly.

"I believe it's safe to assume you and David need to take some leave time," he said, taking a seat in his chair. Gibbs just looked at him, mostly grateful he didn't have to ask. "Half your team's down for the count, and I don't wanna end up with the rest of you burnt out from all this. I've already got another team assembled temporarily."

"And you're gonna lead it," Gibbs surmised. Vance looked up at him from the file on his desk.

"Don't mind doin' my part in this, Gibbs. But I may end up callin' you time to time for consult."

"Long as you don't get used to my desk, Leon," he smirked. The corner of Vance's mouth turned up a bit.

"You just work on getting your agents back on their feet," he said. "I'd rather not have to look for permanent replacements." Gibbs cocked his head, then nodded in agreement.

* * *

"Seriously?" McGee's eyes brightened as Ziva told him the news that Tony was being moved to his room.

"Gibbs thought it would be good for both of you," she smirked. Tim's mouth was curved up on one side, but he watched Ziva's eyes drift and change to concern.

"What aren't you telling me?" Tim asked. Her eyes darted to his, then away again. "The swelling isn't just nothing, is it?" he surmised, and his smile faded. Ziva looked down at the lowered bed rail her fingers rested on.

"If he did not tell you, it is not my place to," she looked up at him. "He does not want you to be concerned."

"Did he say that?"

"No. But he has not told you. That usually means one thing, yes?"

"It means he's doing what I did," he narrowed his eyes. "Trying to protect people by hiding his pain."

"But he is receiving treatment. It is not the same."

"Maybe not. But he should tell me anyway."

"And he may," she said sternly. "But let _him_ be the one to tell you. Do not try to make him talk." Their eyes met for a long moment before Tim dropped his gaze. Then they heard Tony's voice coming from down the hall. They couldn't make out what he was saying, but they knew it was him.

"Probie!" Tony's bed was wheeled into the room by nurses. He seemed to have a bit of swagger in his voice and a look in his eyes that said he'd been given some kind of medication. "Wait," he told the nurse, "Can't you put me next to his bed?"

"There's not enough room with the dialysis machine, Agent DiNozzo," the thin, young black woman told him, then turned toward Ziva. "He's been given something to calm his nerves," she said quietly. "If he starts to act up-"

"She has permission to smack me," Tony said with a grin. The nurse shook her head, then turned to adjust the IV and lock the bed wheels in place.

"I'll be back later on this evening before my shift ends, to give you something to help you sleep. So try and be a good little agent, okay?" she patted him on the head.

"Okay, Nurse Nancy," Tony replied with a childlike voice as she walked out. His eyes closed, but he was still sitting up straight on the bed. "Are they gone, Probie?"

"Yeah," Tim cocked his head and Tony opened his eyes. "You okay?"

"What do ya mean?" he asked innocently.

"Just..." he chanced a glance at Ziva. "Nothin', I guess."

"Zee-vah," Tony smiled. "I'm super hungry," he gave her puppy dog eyes. She squinted at him.

"Normally, I would smack you," she said.

"But I'm so irresistible in a hospital gown," he grinned.

"I will go see if I can get you something from the cafeteria," she smirked, then turned to McGee. "Do you want something?"

"No, thanks," he told her. "I'm getting fed through an IV... but either way, I'm not very hungry." Ziva gave him a small smile before heading out of the room. Tim waited until he was sure she was out of earshot, to turn his attention back to Tony. "What's up with that?" he asked once he saw his eyes closed again.

"What?" Tony looked at him.

"You closing your eyes every time someone walks in or out."

"It's nothin'," he gave a small laugh. But then his smile faded. "I've got some visual issues," he told him. "Probably just temporary...hopefully," he looked down at the blanket on his lap.

"What kind of issues?" McGee furrowed his brow as he urged him to continue. Tony looked up at him.

"Movement Agnosia. Ever heard of it?"

"Uh...no."

"Neither did I, till today," he said with his usual mannerism for hiding fear with laughter and smiles. "Can't see stuff that moves, Probie. It's completely bizarre, and I'm pretty sure that I wigged out a bit and that's why they decided to drug me up so nicely."

"So you, closing your eyes when people move..."

"If I don't see them move, then I'm not _not_ seeing movement," he grinned.

"Is that everything?" Tim asked.

"Is what...what?"

"Is the movement stuff the only thing wrong?" Tony saw the concern in Tim's eyes, but he didn't want to worry him even more by spilling every detail. He looked down at his lap as his eyes darted about the blanket. Then he mumbled something that Tim didn't hear. "What?" Tim asked.

"Can't read," Tony said, looking up at him again. McGee could sense his friend's discouragement.

"But it's temporary, right? I mean...it'll all come back to you once the swelling goes down..." Tony's facade returned and a smile painted his face again.

"Well, that's the plan, McGee. Otherwise..." he paused as he suddenly felt urged to blink back tears, then looked down again. "Otherwise..." he couldn't even make himself finish the sentence. McGee knew the rest, though. He was glad he didn't finish it.

"It's gonna be okay," Tim told him. Tony looked up at him again. "It'll go away." It was then that Tony noticed Tim looked like he wasn't feeling well. His hand laid nonchalantly over his stomach, and he was slightly hunched forward.

"Hey, I thought you were supposed to be knocked out by now?"

"Don't change the subject," Tim squinted.

"My bad. I thought we were done with me."

"Well...were we?" he furrowed his brow seeming confused now.

"Okay, maybe we should call the nurse..."

"Hey, I can handle a little pain," Tim said. "Besides, it's not like it goes away when they sedate me. I just can't whine as much about it."

"Oh..." Tony shifted around in obvious discomfort.

"They give you pain killers?" Tim asked.

"Something...but my back hurts still. Shouldn't I have some kinda special bed?"

"Well, you didn't break your back...so probably no. Why don't you sleep on your stomach?"

"'Cause I gotta stay at an incline, apparently. And I don't bend that way. But no biggie... I'll be fine. JESUS!" Ziva suddenly appeared beside him; the abruptness nearly causing him to fall out of the bed.

"I am sorry!" her brow furrowed as she grabbed his arm with both hands. "I forgot..."

"It's okay," he said as his hand held his chest, trying to calm the sudden pounding. "Just a...little warning next time would be nice." Tim looked all the more worried now, but he quickly hid it away for Tony's sake.

"The nurse said the cafeteria will be sending up dinner trays soon," she explained.

"That's okay," Tony said. "I'm not as hungry as I thought I was a couple minutes ago. Just tired. But I can't get comfortable," he said trying to brush off the fact that he'd been startled, as he shifted around.

"Here," Ziva pulled the pillows from behind him and lined them up so they would evenly cover his back as he laid. "Try it now." Tony skeptically and slowly began to lie back. He was pleasantly surprised at the difference.

"Thanks," he gave her a small grin. "I think I'm gonna just close my eyes for a while," he said, looking back at McGee for a brief moment. "Let me know if someone comes in this time?"

"Yeah...uh...sorry," McGee said.

"It's okay, really. Just...like I said, it's creeping me out." He laid his head back on the pillow and closed his eyes with a drawn out exhale.

"I am going to go get myself some coffee," she said to no one in particular. "I will announce myself when I get back," she turned on her heels and headed out the door.

Once she entered the empty elevator and the doors closed, she allowed herself to cry... She couldn't let her anguish be seen by the two people who needed her strength now, more than ever. It was terrifying...everything that had happened to McGee, and now to Tony.

She felt the fear he felt; the uncertainty of his future, and the sorrow of possibilities. She knew how it felt to be so afraid to lose a place on the team they considered their family. Tony had given up bigger opportunities to stay...though leaving wouldn't have made him happier. He knew that. That's why he didn't go.

Now everything was held in the balance; the void they called 'waiting'. And McGee...he seemed to be handling things better. But the focus had been taken away from his own demons and nightmares for the moment. What would happen when time caught back up to him?

Tim knew she had offered an ear to listen if he needed to talk. But he'd done just the opposite, and all bullshit aside, she felt she'd done nothing but make it worse. The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous her offer had seemed. Yes, she'd been raped. But she'd been violated by the opposite sex. She'd spent many years of her life sleeping with men she didn't necessarily want to. It was business.

But McGee...he would never do that. Being a man, raped by men...was a completely different thing. Wasn't it? No wonder he hadn't wanted to talk to her. She knew nothing of his inner torture. And the violation had been openly discussed and investigated by his closest friends... There had been no time in between to think about it or let it be a horrible secret that he could tuck away and pretend never happened.

She knew how embarrassing and humiliating it felt for them to know... but she had told them. She volunteered the information. Tim had basically relived every moment with them as witnesses... Ziva felt as if she were the only one who wasn't helping him at all.

Now, Tony was in turmoil, and Ziva felt that, here too, she was causing more harm then good. She knew Tony was jumpy and uneasy... confused and afraid. Yet she couldn't remember the simple need to announce herself before entering the room. She'd personally caused him discomfort...and it tore her apart.

Ziva exited the elevator as it opened to the floor of the cafeteria, and swiped the tears from her face. She jumped when her phone rang, and cursed under her breath at herself before answering.

"David."

_"Ziva, did they get him in the room yet?" _Gibbs' voice sounded on the other line.

"Yes," she replied flatly.

_"How's he doin'?"_

She sighed, "Afraid."

_"DiNozzo? Or you?" _She paused before replying.

"Perhaps both. Did you talk to Vance?" she asked, quickly changing the subject.

_"Yeah. We've got time. You okay to stay a few more hours?"_

"Of course."

_"I'll see you then." _

* * *

Gibbs stretched out on the cot alongside the window, between the beds, and opened a case file Vance had given him. It was from the Millennium case in Buffalo; a full report. A closed case, that it may be, he still wanted to understand why. Though he doubted the answers would be in there, he read it anyway... hoping for some meaning in the chaos.

Ziva had long since went home, and the sky had begun its tumble into darkness. Both Tim and Tony were asleep, completely without medication. For that, Gibbs was grateful. He, himself, had managed a few good hours of sleep before calling Ziva earlier that day.

Vance had come by the house to give him the file. It was a bit surprising, but Vance never really seemed to fit into a category in Gibbs' mind completely. There were moments he'd despised the man...wanted to strangle every last breath from him, bring him back, then kill him again. Especially the day he'd taken his agents from him. Moments after that time, he'd even highly considered it. Until he figured out why... but even then, he couldn't help but to be pissed at how it was done.

But since they'd been back, since he'd made it possible to _get_ them back, there were reasons not to kill the director. And even more recently, moments to probably even consider the man his friend. There was a time when he was envious of him...a moment shared with his family that made him miss his own. But then he remembered his more recent family. Keeping _them_ safe was his priority now. And Vance was helping to make that possible, even if it _was_ somehow benefiting himself somehow.

Gibbs' only light coming from the dim glow of the back-lighting behind Tim's bed, he pulled his small flashlight from his pocket and held it between his teeth to view the contents of the file. He shuffled through the xeroxed papers until he came across what he was looking for: the three living beings responsible for what happened to McGee.

Bradley and Jacob Deberoh, and Vanessa Andrews. He scanned the bios of the men, first. They'd spent a majority of their youth being tossed back and forth between foster families. The first family they'd been placed with had been the longest amount of time they'd spent anywhere else. The couple took them in, but the woman was killed in an accident not long after. They'd been in the car with her, and her husband had been at work.

Apparently, the boys stayed with him for another six months before being taken out of the home. There had been signs of abuse that the agency couldn't ignore, but nothing solid enough to put the man away. He ended up committing suicide later that year.

Nothing in the papers showed anything about their birth-parents. Just a long list of petty charges and small amounts of jail time up until about a year ago. Then it seemed everything had gotten quiet in their criminal career. That is, until recently.

Gibbs flipped over to Andrew's file. Her's was much different. She grew up with her father; lived a relatively normal life and had even attended some college with aspirations of entering the field of social worker. But something changed in the middle of her sophomore year that made her drop out.

Gibbs found a note attached to the bio and flipped the page over to read it. The top indicated it was a recent psychological evaluation. Apparently, Andrews had started seeing a counselor during her sophomore year when some recessed memories had begun to surface. During her sessions, she recalled her mother. She left Vanessa with her father right after she was born. What she hadn't known, until some recent investigating, is that her mother left with Vanessa's two older brothers. Her father never told her about them.

Once Vanessa tracked down her brothers, they were grown men, following a path of self-destruction. She'd taken them under her wing, attempting to steer them in the right direction. That what she said, anyway. But it seemed that her recollections hadn't stopped with the remembrance of her long-lost siblings. She'd also recalled abuse from her father. This abuse began to manifest into her own personal need for revenge, and her brothers seemed like the perfect candidates to do it for her.

That's when the violations began at the Millennium. That's what had fueled her diluted behavior that ruined several lives. How many men she'd hoped to destroy before her need had been satiated...Gibbs couldn't imagine.

Andrew's had confessed to everything with smugness and pride. The death of her brothers didn't seem to bother her, but only assist in the feeling of finality to her delusions. He flipped the pages until getting to the photos, and pulled them free from the folder. Closing the file, he placed it in his lap as he flipped through the pictures.

He'd seen most of these already; sent through email by Buff PD, but these seemed more detailed. Close-ups of the elevator mess. The blood on the floor, a memory still etched in his mind. The clothing that quite possibly had also arrived at NCIS by now... no doubt Abby had received them. Abby... she still didn't know about Tony, but he promised he wouldn't tell her anything yet. And when she'd called to check up on Tim, he told her that he was sleeping; that he'd call her in the morning to let her know of any improvements.

An unexpected Abby-visit was avoided for now. He put the photos back into the file and closed it up. Briefly glancing over to see that McGee was still asleep, he scooted more comfortably on the cot and glanced over at DiNozzo. He was surprised to see Tony sitting straight up in his bed, staring in the direction of Tim's bed. A look of anguish was painted on his face; his eyes were glassy with unshed tears...

Gibbs sat up on the cot, "What is it, Tony?" he asked quietly. Tony flinched, as if just realizing he was in the room with him.

"Why are you just...sitting there?" his voice cracked. Gibbs stood.

"What are you talkin' about?"

"Look at him..." he blinked and the tears streamed down his face. Gibbs glanced over at Tim who was still peacefully sleeping. But Tony saw something completely different... His mind showed him a terrifying picture of his friend across the room. Tim's body, long-dead...white skin and widened, dead eyes... blood surrounding underneath him and dripping coldly to the floor. "Look at him!" he yelled. "Why didn't you do anything?!" he moved to swing his legs off of the bed and Gibbs went to his side.

"McGee is fine, Tony," he said after realizing what was happening.

"No, he's not! No!" he was crumbling in front of him as he tried to twist out of Gibbs' hands.

"DiNozzo, listen to me!" Gibbs held Tony's arms firmly. "Look at me!" Tony met his eyes and Gibbs could see the extent of the torment behind them. "Whatever you think you saw, is not real," he explained. Tony blinked as he tried to understand what he'd been told. As he fought to catch his breath, he stopped fighting his boss.

Gibbs released his grip on Tony's arms, but stayed there in front of him. "He's not dead..." Tony blinked again as more tears escaped him. Gibbs shook his head with a furrowed brow. Tony took in a shaky breath. "Why's this happening to me?" he asked, barely keeping hold of the fear that had its deadly grip on his heart.

"It'll go away," Gibbs tried to reassure him.

"What if it doesn't?" his voice cracked again; his eyes searching desperately for some kind of clarity from his boss.

"It will," Gibbs told him, putting a comforting hand on his agent's shoulder. "Close your eyes," he said, and Tony gave him a questioning look. "I'm gonna go get the nurse. See if they can give you somethin' to help you sleep." Tony was too exhausted to fight him on it. He closed his eyes and listened to Gibbs' footsteps until he was sure he had left the room.

"Tony?" he heard Tim's voice and opened his eyes to look over at him. The image his head had created for him was now gone, and the relief washed over him, causing more tears to slip down his cheeks. "You okay?" Tim's brow was furrowed. He'd heard the conversation between Tony and Gibbs from the moment Tony had started yelling.

Tony wiped away the tears from his face and grabbed hold of the IV pole as he stood up off of the bed. He rolled it along with him as he approached Tim's bed. "I- I don't think you should be outta bed, Tony," he said, shifting to sit as best he could with the arm restraint. Tony sat down on the edge of the bed beside Tim and looked at him.

"Sorry I woke you up, McGee," his voice cracked again as he spoke. Tim shook his head.

"You really thought I was dead?" Tim asked. Tony swallowed. "Why?" But his question was cut short as he saw Gibbs and a nurse enter the room. "Close your eyes," he told him, and Tony understood right away and complied.

"You shouldn't be out of bed with the pain killers in your system," the nurse said. But as the nurse took his arm, Tony grabbed Tim's wrist and looked at him.

"I'm sorry, Probie," he said, then released his grip, closed his eyes, and allowed the nurse to help him back to his bed. McGee looked at Gibbs, who approached him as he saw his concern.

"Hallucinations," he said quietly, "I'm guessin' he left that out."

"But it- it'll go away," his eyes darted back and forth between Gibbs', "Right?"

"Boss..." Gibbs turned when he heard Tony call his name. He approached the agent's bed when he saw his eyes growing heavy. "Boss, I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?" he narrowed his eyes.

"Shoulda paid more attention to where I was standing," he said as lids pulled closed. "'s my fault."

"Don't start," Gibbs tapped him under the chin. Tony cracked his eyes open at him.

"Don' hit the mental patient, Boss..." he said as his eyes closed again. Gibbs clenched his jaw at Tony's dark attempt at humor, then glanced at the nurse who was looking up at him.

"I gave him some Lorazepam to calm his nerves, and a mild sedative. His chart says he'll be getting an MRI in the morning," she told him, then made her way over to McGee's monitor. "And _you_ have been cleared to come off of dialysis tomorrow," she told Tim. "Tests came back showing great improvement in both your kidneys and liver. Looks like the antibiotics are working quite well also. Your white blood-cell count is reaching normal levels," she continued explaining as she checked the IV bags. "So how are you feeling?" she asked him. "We can try you out on a mild pain killer if you need one."

"I uh..." he tried to absorb everything she'd just told him, "I'm actually just a little nauseous," he told her.

"I'll go see if I can get something to help you with that," she gave him a smile before turning to leave the room. Tim noticed Gibbs had moved back to the cot and was leaning back against the wall as he watched the nurse exit the room. Then he turned to look at McGee.

"That's good news, McGee," he said. Tim nodded slightly, but looked down at his lap. He couldn't help but not feel the relief he should; couldn't help but to think back on when he'd read the words from Tony on his laptop before knowing what the extent of his injuries were.

"Boss, thanks for what you wrote," he glanced briefly at him before looking back down at his lap. "Really meant a lot to me."

"Well it was the truth," he replied simply.

"Tony wrote something after you," he told him. Gibbs turned his head up a bit more, out of curiosity. "Guess he wouldn't mind if you saw it, seeing as he must've read what you wrote," he looked over at him.

"You _want_ me to read it?" he asked. Tim looked around for a moment as he considered the question.

"You don't have to. I was...just thinking about something he said in it. Now I can't help to think the same about _him_." Gibbs could tell Tim needed him to read it. So he got up and fetched the laptop and took it back to the cot with him. As it powered on, the nurse came back into the room and took a majority of McGee's attention.

The document was still open, and he scrolled down past his own writing until he found where Tony's began. He skimmed through the sentiments until he saw his mentioning of Kate. Then he read carefully through the rest of the letter, understanding now, exactly what Tim meant.

Fighting to rush of feeling that threatened to hit him, he closed the laptop and moved it back to the table just as the nurse left. McGee looked over at him as he came close to the side of his bed. Gibbs put a firm hand on Tim's shoulder. "Don't give up on him just yet, Tim," he told him. Tim furrowed a brow.

"That's not what I'm doing," he replied with a furrowed brow. "I'm just...worried."

"Well, let _me_ do that. You get some sleep," he ruffed the agent's hair before going back to the cot.

* * *

**Sorry it took so long to get this out. I've been distracted! But I hope you enjoyed this chapter. More to come soon.**


	21. Chapter 21

McGee's bed was inclined favorably as he set out to inspect the contents of the breakfast tray they'd brought in for him. He was grateful for the freedom of his left arm once they'd removed the dialysis tubes a short time ago. Tony had still been asleep when they removed it, but they'd whisked the other agent out of the room for his MRI before breakfast came.

As he examined the liquid platter in front of him, Tim picked up the small cup of applesauce and a plastic spoon, pushing the rest of the unwanted items forward on the rolling table. He wasn't particularly hungry to begin with, but he knew he needed to eat _something_. He'd kill for one of the nutrition shakes at this point.

Tim's thoughts drifted to Tony. This MRI could be good or bad news for him...possibly even _no_ news. He prayed it'd be either good or nothing...at least for now. But he was glad Gibbs had gone with him. Tony hadn't seemed happy about having to go through another scan, but McGee had suspicions that it was mostly out of fear of getting bad news.

"Hey, Timmy!" Abby's voice boomed as she entered the room. His eyes shot to her in surprise.

"What're you doing here?"

"Well I came to see you," her smile faded as she approached the bed. "Are you mad that I came?"

"No," he shook his head and swallowed. "I just...wasn't expecting you." He sensed that his question had somewhat hurt her feelings, and decided to give her small smile in apology.

"They took you off dialysis!" she beamed again.

"Yeah, they said everything looks to be getting better," he told her as she sat down on the side of his bed.

"I'm so glad. I was so worried," she put a hand on his cheek. He blushed. "Where's Gibbs? He was supposed to call this morning."

"He's uh..." he panicked. She wasn't supposed to know about Tony yet, but he felt she had a right to know.

"I bet he went for coffee," she concluded. He clamped his mouth shut. "So I was kinda shocked when everyone was gone yesterday," she continued. "I went up to ask Gibbs why the NAVSEA case was handed over to Vance, and he wasn't there. No one was there. I'd only seen Ziva for just a minute. When Jimmy brought up a slug from the guy that killed those three employees, he seemed pretty distant. He told me Tony took him down, then he just kinda spaced and left."

By now, Tim's eyes darted around the room nervously. His mind screamed for someone, anyone, to come in and save him from having to answer the question he knew she was about to ask. But no one came, and when his eyes met hers, he could see that his nervousness had caused her to come to conclusions on her own.

"What happened?" she asked with a furrowed brow.

"Why do think something happened?" he asked, and he immediately recalled his boss responding to his own question, in the same fashion. Her jaw set and she glared at him. He folded under her gaze. "Look...he didn't want us to say anything yet, because he didn't want you to worry."

"Who?"

After a moment, he replied, "Tony." Her jaw cocked and her eyes demanded further explanation. "He's not gonna die or anything," he told her. She wasn't satisfied. "No one's working because Vance gave us all time off. He's taking over all our cases until we can get back."

"What happened to Tony?" she asked flatly.

"Just do me a favor and don't freak out," he started, "It'll sound a lot worse then it is...Tony was trying to apprehend a suspect and...fell off of the NAV building."

"Fell off of the NAV building?" she stood as her brows rose in surprise, "How can that be less worse then it sounds?!"

"Because nothing's broken, Abby," he tried to calm her, "Just sit down and listen!" his voice was stern and his face held seriousness in his command. Slightly startled, she complied. "He hit his head on the way down," he continued, "It knocked him unconscious which apparently is why he didn't break any bones. But he has some swelling from where he hit his head. Now you need to listen carefully to this," he said more quietly, and she moved closer to him. "He's got some issues processing visual stuff."

"What do you mean?" her eyes grew glassy and her jaw cocked again as she waited for the answer.

"I mean, he can't see movement, and that's what you need to listen to me about. You can't come into the room unannounced. To him, it's like you just appear out of no where and it creeps him out."

"Wait a second," she held up her hands and physically shook herself as if to clear the confusion from her brain. "This swelling...and the visual stuff...that's all just temporary, right?"

"That's what we're hoping," Tim told her.

"So wait...you mean there's a chance it could be permanent? How will he-"

"Abby!" he interrupted her thoughts, "Don't even _think_ that way. Please," he took her wrist in his hand. "He's getting an MRI right now. If anything's changed, we'll know when it's done. And I promise I'll tell Gibbs to call you as soon as we know. But you can't be here when they get back, 'cause if they find out I told you..."

"I get it," she said, surprisingly enough. "I'm just glad he's okay...well, not dead."

"He's gonna be okay," he reassured her.

"And what about you?" she asked. "You gonna be okay, too?"

"'Course," he replied with a lopsided grin. She leaned toward him with a smile playing on her lips.

"Good," she kissed him; their lips meeting in a chaste, short and sweet joining before she pulled back away. "I miss you being around," she told him as she petted his hairline.

"I miss _being_ around," he told her. "And I miss normal food," he tapped the plastic spoon against the side of his applesauce cup.

"Don't worry, you'll be outta here in no time. Then I'll take you wherever you want and we'll pig out until they kick us to the curb!" He smiled at the thought. "Now I gotta get to work before Vance figures out I'm late," she stood from the bed. "Don't forget to make Gibbs call me when he gets back."

* * *

"I'm quite impressed, Agent DiNozzo," she the familiar voice of the head radiologist. "I didn't expect to see such a reduction in the swelling this soon."

"That's good though, right?" Tony asked as Gibbs assisted him back into the wheelchair.

"It means the meds are doing their job," she told him. "Are you continuing to have the same symptoms we discussed yesterday?"

"Not sure," Tony smirked. She looked at Gibbs for further elaboration.

"He keeps closin' his eyes, so he doesn't know. But last night he had another hallucination," Gibbs told her.

"But none this morning?"

"Nope," Tony replied.

"Well, let's test your tracking," she said, pulling out the flashlight. Tony swallowed and closed his eyes. Gibbs saw his reaction and immediately placed a hand on his shoulder to show some kind of support.

"Can't do it with your eyes closed," Gibbs told him. Tony opened his eyes and let out a shaky breath.

"Sorry, Boss," he said, "I just..." he stopped mid-sentence.

"You just what?" Gibbs asked. No reply came. "Tony?" he looked at him more closely, as did the nurse. He was staring blankly, emotionless, at nothing. "What's going on?" Gibbs felt a pang of fear in his chest.

"Agent DiNozzo?" she called a bit louder. Suddenly, Tony blinked and shook his head as if to clear it. Then he met Gibbs' worried face.

"What?" Tony asked, confused. "Why are you lookin' at me like that, Boss?" he asked with a smirk playing on his lips. "I'll do the tracking test, really. Let's just do it."

She glanced at Gibbs before beginning the test. "You know the drill," she told Tony, "Just follow the flashlight." She slowly moved it back and forth in front of him. He blinked hard a few times.

"Wait...wait, do it again," he told her. Gibbs watched as she complied; he watched Tony's eyes. They followed the light... "I...I did it," he breathed. "I could see it move!" he smiled widely. The nurse gave him a congratulatory smile.

"Let's try something bigger," she told him, then looked at Gibbs. "Agent Gibbs, if you could walk across the room?" she asked him as she turned Tony's chair around to face him. Gibbs narrowed his eyes at his agent before slowly walking across the room, keeping a careful eye on Tony as he did so.

Tony pursed his lips as his eyes watered, purely out of relief as he walked Gibbs cross the room. "This means I'm better, right?" he asked her without looking away from his boss, who was now coming back toward him.

"It's definitely an improvement," she told him. "Before we push you too far, though, I want you to give yourself some rest. Get back up to your room and have some breakfast. Agent Gibbs, if I could have a word with you?" He nodded and patted Tony's arm before following her into the other room.

"What was that...blank out thing he did?" he asked her quietly.

"No need to be alarmed," she told him, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "It looked like what's called an absence seizure. But in his case, I think it may have been a reset. Like when you restart your computer after it freezes," she said, and Gibbs squinted as he tried to understand what she was explaining. "Have you ever dropped your cell phone and had it lock up on you?" she asked.

"Sure," he nodded.

"And you had to turn it off for a minute and when it came back on, it was just fine again."

"On most occasions," he replied. "You sayin' his brain turned itself off for a minute?"

"No," she gave a small laugh, "But I think the part of it that got hit; the occipital lobe, may have done a little rebooting."

"This is all speculation though," he surmised.

"I'd like to think it's more than that. The agnosia seems to have gone away."

"Yeah. I'm just a little concerned if he should _reboot_ again. Some of my phones never worked the same," he cocked his head.

"I understand, Agent Gibbs. You're worried about his recovery. But please believe me when I say that this is a good sign. We're keeping him another night, and we'll do another scan tomorrow to be sure. But I'm really confident that he'll be making calls again in no time," she winked. He smirked at her comment before turning to go back to Tony.

* * *

Ziva had gotten up at her usual time, but remained in bed. Drifting in and out of restless slumber since before dawn was giving her a headache, and she finally decided to push herself out of bed and toward the shower. But she was stopped when her cell began to chirp on the side table.

Turning on her heels, she went to retrieve it, "David," she said, with perhaps a bit of frustration.

_"Tony's MRI showed improvement," _Gibbs' words were like a shining ray of hope. _"He's able to detect movement again."_

"That is great news," she said, then covered the mic as she felt tears of joy overwhelm her.

_"Yeah, it is. You comin' by today?"_

"Yes," she said as she tried to compose herself. "I was just going to take a shower and head that way."

_"No rush. I'm just getting myself some coffee. Both of them are sleepin' right now. But when you get here, I need to go talk to Abby."_

* * *

Tony tore a page from the magazine in his lap and balled it up tightly before launching it across the room toward a sleeping McGee. Tim merely flinched, but didn't wake up. Tony made a face and tore out another page, repeating the procedure.

"Hey!" McGee swatted the paper ball away as he sat up a bit and glared at Tony.

"I thought you'd never wake up!" Tony said with a boyish grin. Tim picked up one of the balls of paper and threw it back at Tony, hitting him square in the forehead. "Careful with the face, Probie!" he mocked.

"What are you in such a good mood about?" Tim couldn't help but smirk at his behavior.

"Turns out my brain's workin' again," he grinned. "MRI said the swellings gone down, and I passed the track test. No more surprise entrances."

"That's...great, Tony," Tim beamed.

"Nurse told me to get some rest, but I couldn't sleep without sharing the news. Looks like I could be breakin' outta here tomorrow."

"You read that magazine before you started turning it into ammo?" he asked, and Tony looked down at what was left of the pages as if he'd only now realized what it was. Tim studied his expression carefully. Changing from excitement to unreadable...to what he could only register as tears. Tim's gut churned as he pulled himself up out of the bed and started toward Tony's, lugging the rolling IV rack at his side.

"Did you know," Tony said without looking up from the magazine, "That Dane Cook is doing another movie?" he picked up his head as tears flowed down his face. Tim was beside Tony's bed at this point and tried to read his face. Tony seemed confused that he was standing beside him as Tim looked down at the magazine.

"That's what it says..." he realized he'd read it from the page. Then he looked back up at his face. "Why are you crying?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"I...don't know," he made a sound that was either a laugh or a sob, and McGee was at a loss for what to do. He sat down beside him on the bed. "I don't wanna leave you here by yourself," Tony swiped furiously at his eyes, cursing under his breath at his loss of control. Tim's heart sank in his chest at those words, and he found himself putting his arm around his friend's shoulders.

"Hey, I'll be fine," he told him, and Tony unexpectedly turned his head into Tim's shoulder and hugged him.

"I'm sorry, Probie...I don't know what the hell's wrong with me..." he quickly pulled away from him and turned away from him onto his side.

"I..." McGee couldn't remember the last time he'd been so confused as to how to respond. "Maybe I should get the nurse?"

"No...I...I'm just gonna go to sleep. Sorry..." Tony pulled the blanket up over his head and Tim stood up from the bed and walked around to the other side, pulling the blanket back down.

"Hey...there's nothing wrong with you," he told him. "You just got your life handed back to you. That's a huge thing."

"Shouldn't I be happy, then?" he asked as he held back anymore tears.

"Well...yeah, you should. But for some reason you've skewed it all around and made yourself feel guilty."

"What?"

"You're apologizing to me because you're getting better!"

"I just thought..." his eyes drifted around in the air between them, "It's not fair that you're still stuck in here. I fell off a godamn building and I'm gonna walk outta here tomorrow like nothing ever happened."

"You think I wanted you to stay hurt just so I'd have company?" his brow furrowed with the sternness in his voice, and Tony flinched. "Do you know how shitty I felt when I heard what happened? How I couldn't help but blame myself?"

"What?" Tony sprang to sit up at his words. "How the hell would it be your fault?"

"You were here all night! If you'd gotten a decent night's sleep, you might've seen the guy sooner..."

"No!" Tony pushed himself up off of the bed to stand in front of him. "What happened up there had nothing to do with me staying here!"

"Well excuse me for finding that hard to believe!" he felt tears start to sting his own eyes. Tony fought hard against the returning of his own tears.

"Don't get me started with the blame game again, McGee..." his voice cracked through his gritted teeth. It took Tim a moment to understand what he'd meant by that.

"You...you know there was nothing..." he couldn't even finish the sentence. He was torn between being infuriated and possibly wanting to break down into tears of his own. Tony's face straightened when he saw Tim's reaction. All feelings of frustration left him.

"I'm sorry...I...didn't mean to bring that up again..."

"You got your life back," Tim said, "That gives me a lot of hope that I'll get mine back, too." Tony blinked as the words sunk in. "And I'm not gonna be alone. You made sure I didn't have to go through any of this alone."

"Wasn't just me," he said, modestly.

"No. But you came to get me without a second guess. You saved me. I could've...stubbornly gotten into that rental car and drove myself into a ditch trying to get back here," his eyes were glassy now, but Tony suddenly felt a smirk playing on his lips.

"You still owe me for that plane ticket," he joked, and thankfully it painted a smile onto Tim's face as he let out a small laugh.

"I owe you a lot more then that," he said as he moved to sit on the edge of Tony's bed. Tony sat as well.

"You don't owe me anything," he told him. "You feelin' okay?" he asked, suddenly aware and concerned about the fact he'd been out of bed this long.

"Yeah, just a little light-headed. Been a while since I walked around. But it feels nice to be outta that bed."

"You're probably light-headed because of that miserable liquid diet they've got you on."

"Haven't exactly been eating everything on my plate, either," he confessed.

"I happen to know a sneaky ninja who might could sneak something in for you," he grinned and wagged his brow.

* * *

**Time for bed. Idk why its taking me so long to dish out chapters—sorry! I'll have more up tomorrow Im hoping. Let me know if you liked it:)**


	22. Chapter 22

**Thanks for your patience, everyone! Thank you to all my reviewers—for taking the time to show me love 3 and thanks to everyone adding this to faves, and alerts, and checking out my other stories (which i've recently gone back to read and realize how horrible a job I did with Ziva's speech...using contractions! Obviously it was earlier in my ncis watching days when I didn't catch on haha) anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

Gibbs stood right outside the door of his agents' room, out of sight, as he listened to the conversation. He'd caught it from the beginning when he came back up from the cafeteria. The moment Tim had gotten up out of bed, Gibbs had been right there, ready to walk in, but saw the look on Tony's face and paused. As McGee made his way toward Tony, Gibbs had backed up out of sight on the outskirts of the doorway and listened.

He'd been confused at Tony's tears; downright concerned, actually. But he trusted McGee to talk him through it and ask the right questions. And he deserved the right to do that for his friend. He needed to.

When they'd seemed to pull each other through the better side of the discussion, Gibbs had smiled. It wasn't until Tony had called up Ziva, that he decided to enter the room.

"Hey, Zi. Can you do us a huge favor when you get this message, and pick up some of those shake things on the way here? Probie hates the hospital food, and I'm not necessarily fond of it either," he looked up as Gibbs came into the room. "Thanks. See ya later," he ended the call. "Hey, Boss."

"What're you doin' outta bed, McGee?" Gibbs approached them.

"Just uh...stretching my legs, Boss," Tim replied as he stood from the bed.

"Thought you were sleepin', DiNozzo?" he cocked his head at the agent.

"I tried. But hell, I slept all night. It's not in my blood to sleep again this soon." They both watched McGee get back into his own bed successfully. "Boss, you should go home and get some sleep," Tony suggested. "I think we can keep an eye on each other till Ziva gets here."

"You tryin' to get rid of me?" he smirked.

"No," Tony laughed, "But you've been here all night. And I know that cot isn't the most comfortable place to get a good night's sleep." After he said it, he regretted it. He glanced briefly at Tim who was scratching at the bandages on his arm and looking out the window.

"I've slept in worse," Gibbs said quickly.

"It _was_ better then my massage chair," he smirked. Gibbs took a long drink of his coffee.

"Okay. I'm gonna go speak with the doc before I go," Gibbs said, then turned to Tim. "I'll see if Abby can come spend the night here tonight."

"Uh, Boss..." McGee swallowed. "I...uh...Abby came here this morning."

"What?" Gibbs narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, I had no idea. But I need to let you know, 'cause you're probably gonna tell her anyway...I told her what happened to Tony..." his eyes darted around nervously before settling back on Gibbs. "She knew something was up and I didn't have the heart to let her figure it out on her own." Gibbs said nothing, but studied Tim's face as he glanced over at Tony, apologetically.

But Tony's mouth curved into an accepting grin. "It's okay, Probie," he told him. "At the time, I thought I wasn't gonna make it." Tim's brow furrowed as his gaze shifted slightly lower in the air between them. Tony squinted before looking back up at his boss. "Well, looks like you get to be the bearer of good news, then."

* * *

"Hey, Gibbs," Abby greeted a little less enthusiastic then usual when Gibbs arrived in her lab.

"I hear you came by the hospital this morning," he said as he reached her side.

"Yep," she busied herself on the computer.

"McGee told me he told you," he said, and she paused and turned to face him. "Tony's doing better."

"Is he really?" she raised her brows as her eyes darted back and forth between his.

"Swellings gone down. Symptoms seem to be gone." She threw her arms around him and squeezed him.

"I was so worried," she said, "I'm pretty pissed you didn't tell me, but I understand why."

Gibbs kissed her head. "I'm sorry, Abs. Tony wanted it that way. But at least you didn't have to worry for very long," he gently pulled out of the hug and looked at her. "You up to spending the night over there with them?"

"Of course. Vance has a ton of stuff for me to go over, but I'll make sure it's done before the end of the day."

"Ziva will be there. You don't have to rush," he kissed her cheek before turning to leave. They really didn't need anyone else to be there with them. Tony and Tim could keep an eye on each other. But this was more for the sake of the girls; they needed to be there to see that everything was getting better.

Gibbs was, indeed, exhausted, though he didn't want that to show. It didn't really have anything to do with the uncomfortable cot. It had been an emotionally exhausting week. Or had it been longer then that? He couldn't even remember.

The constant coffee refills were no longer having their desired effect. So little, in fact, he didn't believe he should drive home. But he had to go down to see Ducky before he could even consider going home. His eyes drifted closed on the brief journey down, in the elevator. They opened with the doors once it reached the morgue, and he was glad to find his friend at his desk, and not in the middle of an autopsy.

"Hey, Duck," his voice came out sounding more exhausted then he'd intended.

"Jethro," Ducky stood from his desk and turned to face him. "I wasn't expecting you in today. How did Anthony's MRI go? I haven't had the chance to call. We just recently finished with the body brought in early this morning."

"MRI went well," he said, moving to lean against one of the cold tables. "He's doing better."

"You look exhausted, Jethro," Ducky approached him. "You should've gone straight home to bed."

"Had to fill you and Abby in," he smirked. "I should probably bring Vance up to speed, too."

"Now, I'll take care of that. Allow me to drive you home," he said as he pulled his suit coat from the rack. "And on the way, you can tell me how both of the boys are fairing."

* * *

"Sorry it took me so long," Ziva said as she entered the room.

"Sshh..." she looked at Tony who was holding a finger over his mouth, and he motioned to McGee, who was sleeping.

"Sorry," she whispered as she made her way to Tony's bed. "I got your message. The nurse said it would be fine for McGee to have the shakes. They are keeping them in the fridge for him."

"Thanks," he grinned at her, and she crawled up into the bed next to him.

"Gibbs told me you are getting better," she said as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I have missed you being home."

"I miss being home with you, too," he said as he took her hand in his. "But it looks like I'll be able to leave here tomorrow."

"And how is McGee doing? I see he is off of the dialysis machine."

"I think he's doing a lot better. But I wanna be here for him still. After I get outta here I mean. I should be here for the nights at least."

"I understand. How much longer does he have to be here?" she asked.

"Actually," the voice of the nurse rang from the door and they both looked over, "I had a discussion with Agent Gibbs earlier," she approached them and kept her voice fairly quiet. "And I discussed it with my team, and they agree that it would be alright to send him home tomorrow for the remainder of his recovery."

"Really?" Tony asked. "I mean...is that safe for him?"

"He's responded well to the antibiotics. His white blood cell count is within normal levels, and his fever hasn't returned. As long as he's got his friends around to keep an eye on him, it might as well be somewhere a bit more comfortable for him. And looking at his medical records, with the knowledge of what he's been through, and the fact that your presence seems to be extremely comforting to him, I think it'd be a good decision."

"Gibbs talked to you about this?" he asked, then looked over at Tim who was still fast asleep.

"He asked if it was possible, yes."

"This means we'll be back at his house," he turned to Ziva. "That okay with you?" he asked, knowing she'd most likely been looking forward to having him back home with her.

"Of course," she smiled at him. "Whatever we need to do to get him well again." The nurse walked over to Tim's bed to change his IV bag, and Ziva looked down at her lap. "I will try to do a better job this time," she said quietly. Tony's head snapped to look at her with a furrowed brow.

"Zi..." he turned her face to look at him when she didn't respond. "Don't do that."

"I am sorry, Tony. I just do not want to make things worse again," she pulled away.

"Damnit...what is wrong with all of us?!" he said, trying not to raise his voice. Ziva gave him a questioning look. "We're all so bent on taking the blame for every little thing that happens..."

"I am trying very hard, Tony," she told him, "I really am. I know that there is no point in blaming myself, but the fact still remains in my heart and in my head...and I do not want to make the same mistake again."

"You won't," he told her. "He needs you, Zi."

"No, he needs _you_."

"He needs you, too. You have something the rest of us don't. I think it's time you start using it." She looked over at McGee as she considered Tony's words. He was right. It was time that she 'grow a pair' and opened up to Tim. But she needed to figure out how to let herself do it...

* * *

**24 hours later...**

McGee and Tony stood in the downstairs guest room, looking over the changes Gibbs had made. Another bed had been put into the room, albeit a much smaller one. The nightstand nearest the window was gone, and the original bed was pushed up against the wall to make more room.

"Boss?" Tony turned to Gibbs in question.

"Think of it as the recovery ward," he smirked. "You can't be on the couch with your back all messed up. And I don't want either of you takin' the stairs till you're off all meds."

"Looks like Ziva brought over more of your collection," Tim said, and Tony turned to see the excessive amount more of DVDs that sat beside the TV.

"Guess she figures we'll be pretty bored," Tony smirked.

"Ducky's on his way to get you hooked back up to your IV," Gibbs told McGee. "In the meantime, you hungry?"

"We had lunch at the hospital," Tim told him.

"I think I'm gonna grab a shower," Tony said as he picked up his overnight bag that Ziva had brought and placed on his bed. As McGee settled into his bed, he plugged up his laptop as Tony made his way into the bathroom.

Tony closed the door behind him after flicking on the switch. He couldn't help but remember the last time he'd been in there... the way they'd found McGee... He shook his head to subside the memory as he began to disrobe.

*~.~*

Gibbs started a pot of coffee and made his way to the fridge to bring a couple of bottled waters into the guest room. The door to the room had been left open, but he knocked lightly anyway as he entered. "Need anything?" he asked as he set the bottles down on the small table between the beds.

"Don't think so," he replied as he looked up from his laptop. "But I do have a question."

"What's that?" he asked, sitting down on the edge of the other bed and giving him his undivided attention.

"You think Ziva's still blaming herself for what happened?" Gibbs was a little set back by the question. "I'm just asking 'cause I haven't seen much of her lately. I feel like...maybe she's avoiding me."

"Well, I can't speak for her," he told him. "But I don't think she's intentionally avoiding you, no." The conversation was halted by the sound of the front door being opened. "Sounds like Ducky's here," he said as he stood. "I'll talk to Ziva," he offered.

"Uh...you don't have to do that, Boss," he said, slightly concerned. "I just wanna be sure she's okay." Gibbs nodded after a moment and Ducky entered the room with a bag of items he'd brought from the hospital.

"I see you've made some adjustments to your guest quarters, Jethro," Ducky said as he passed by him. "This setup brings back memories of a sick-house I visited long ago. Although, I must say, it's far more inviting in here. Especially since it's more of a recovery room, than quarantine."

"What were they quarantined for, Ducky?" Tim asked purely out of curiosity, as the doctor worked to hook up the IV bags and connect the tubing to the cannula they'd left in his arm. Gibbs watched as him work as he began his story.

"A very interesting case, indeed," he explained. "It was a mild case of smallpox in two children. Most definitely the only time I'd personally encountered it, and the last, as the disease has been eradicated since then. Yes...they were brothers; ten and twelve if I remember correctly. Very head-strong children, they were. Neither claimed to know from whom they'd contracted the disease, though the parents believed it to have been from a visiting uncle. Luckily, both boys survived. Unfortunately, their uncle did not." He was finished setting up the IV's by the time his story was finished.

Gibbs noticed then, that McGee's face had slightly paled. "You okay, McGee?" he asked.

"Uh...yeah," Tim swallowed nervously and his eyes darted around the air. "I've gotta use the bathroom," he told him.

"You can use the one in the hall, if it can't wait," Ducky said.

"It can't," he replied.

"Perhaps I should remove the IV for a moment, then," Ducky said as he went to work to do so.

"I haven't....had to go since before..." he shyly looked down at the mattress as he closed his laptop. Gibbs narrowed his eyes and suddenly felt as though he were somehow intruding on Tim's privacy.

"Ah, I see," Ducky said. "Are you worried it might be painful?" he asked as he closed off the tube.

"I-I dunno..." his face flushed red as he stuttered. "Guess it doesn't really make a difference. If I gotta go, I gotta go... geez, Ducky, I don't really feel comfortable talking about...ya know..."

"Yes, I see," he gave a small laugh as he removed the tube from the cannula. "Well it's something everyone does, and no one wants to talk about. Never the less, I promise you I won't be standing right outside the door."

"Thanks," Tim stood, grateful that Gibbs was no longer in the room to have heard the discussion. Hurriedly, he made his way to the hall bathroom, flipping on both the light and fan switch to drown out any possible sound he might end up making. As uncomfortable as he suddenly felt, he couldn't hold it in any longer...

*~.~*

Tony came out of the bathroom, fully clothed and drying his hair with a towel. He noticed the IV stand and tubing, but no McGee. Feeling slightly off about the absence of his friend, he made his way out of the room and into the kitchen where Gibbs and Ducky were having coffee at the table.

"Where's McGoo?" he asked. They both looked over at him.

"He's using the bathroom," Ducky replied. "How are you feeling, Anthony?"

"Not bad," he said as he made his way over to the coffee maker and grabbed a mug from the cabinet to pour himself some. "The hot water actually felt good on my back, which I was kinda surprised about, considering."

"Interchanging cold and heat will help minimize the bruising," Ducky said.

"How's your head?" Gibbs asked as Tony made his way to join them at the table with his coffee.

"Still hurts, but not excruciating," he smirked before taking a sip of the hot beverage.

"The coffee might actually help a bit," Ducky said, "In addition to a couple of ibuprofen," he fetched a bottle from his pocket and set it in front of Tony. "I took the liberty of picking some up on my way here."

"Thanks, Duck," he said with a grin, "You always come prepared." His gaze seemed to drift toward the hall. "How long's he been in the bathroom?" he asked with a look of concern. "He feelin' sick?" But the others didn't need to answer as they all heard the sound of flushing, and the sink tap come on. Tony seemed a bit relieved, inwardly smacking himself for assuming the worst.

"I'll see to getting his IV line back in," Ducky said as he stood from the table. "He should be able to try some solid food for dinner later. If I'm not stuck working late, I'll join you all," he said as he made his way toward the guest room.

"I don't know about you, Boss, but I sure could go for the healing power of a steak cooked over an open fire," he grinned, then took another long sip of coffee. Gibbs smirked.

"Tell Ziva to pick some up on the way over," he said. "And some red potatoes," he cocked his head as he thought, "Somethin' green for McGee." Tony made a face.

"Gonna force him to eat his veggies, huh?"

"You too," he smirked before finishing off the coffee in his mug.

*~.~*

"Everything okay, Tim?" Ducky asked after he finished connecting the IV. McGee seemed a bit preoccupied.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Wasn't as bad as I'd expected."

"Good. Just continue to drink plenty of water throughout the day and you should be fine in that department." Tim managed to blush, yet again, in embarrassment. Ducky put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't feel embarrassed in front of _me_, dear boy," he said. "I've seen far more humiliating feces-related incidents then I'd ever feel comfortable retelling." Tim looked at him with a smirk playing on his lips.

* * *

"C'mon, Probie! If I gotta eat this stuff, so do you," Tony said as he forked a stalk of broccoli.

"Hey, I'm getting all the nutrition I need from _this_," he tapped the IV bag on the pole.

"It will not kill you to eat something healthy for a change," Ziva smirked before putting a forkful of the vegetable into her mouth.

"It _might_ kill me, Ziva," Tony squinted. "I remember this lecture in college, I forget what the point of it was supposed to be, but the professor was talking about this old guy who lived alone for the better part of his life. He ate meat and potatoes everyday; healthy as an ox. One day, he gets invited to dine with these wealthy folks and they feed him this ...delectable, wholesome meal. He goes home afterward. Dies in his sleep..."

"And here I thought Ducky was still stuck at work," Gibbs smirked as he chewed a piece of his steak. McGee laughed lightly, accompanied by Ziva laughing through her nose.

"Yeah..." Tony cocked his head, "I guess he and Abby have their hands full this evening."

"Guess we picked a good week to take off," Ziva said. Gibbs wiped his mouth on a napkin and pushed away from the table, heading to the fridge.

"Anyone want a beer while I'm up?" he asked.

"I'll take one, Boss," Tony said, and Gibbs looked over at him, glancing briefly at his plate before meeting his eyes again.

"Eat your veggies," he said with a smirk. "Ziver?"

"Sure," she answered, smirking at Tony.

"That's just not fair," Tony voiced.

"None for me, Boss," McGee spoke up, knowing he probably hadn't even been included in the question anyway. Gibbs handed Ziva a bottle and sat down with his own. Tony put on a show, pinching his nose as he stuffed every last piece of broccoli into his mouth, then washed it down with half a bottle of water. Topping it off with a slight gag at the end.

"Okay," he coughed, "I think that deserves a reward of at least two beers," Tony said as he pushed up from the table and went to the fridge. Gibbs cell began to ring from the living room and he stood to retrieve it.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

_"Jethro, I'm afraid we won't be joining you this evening," _Ducky's voice sounded on the other line. _"Abigail seems to have come down with a stomach bug. I'm going to take her home."_

"She okay?" he asked, concerned.

_"She's been vomiting on and off for the past hour. I'm sure she'll be fine, but I don't want to risk bringing it over there."_

"You let me know if she needs anything, Duck."

_"Certainly, Jethro. Don't worry yourself about her. I'll stay with her tonight."_

"Well, don't get yourself sick, Duck. NCIS will go to hell if every one of us is out." This was rewarded with a chuckle on the other end.

_"I'll be quite fine. Call me if you have any concerns about Tony or Tim. I've got their meds set up for them in the cabinet."_

"Tell Abby I said g'nite. Thanks, Duck." The call ended.

"Everything okay?" Tony asked as he stood against the frame leading from the kitchen.

"Abby's sick," he said. "Stomach bug."

"She gonna be alright?" Tony asked with a furrowed brow. Gibbs made his way past him into the kitchen.

"Ducky's stayin' with her tonight. Says she'll be okay."

"She stayed overnight with us," Tony said, "You don't think McGee caught it do you?"

"I'm on three different antibiotics, Tony, there's no way," McGee said as he pushed his plate forward a bit. Ziva and Gibbs began clearing the table.

"Right," Tony responded, sheepishly, then started to help clean up.

"No, Tony," Ziva pushed him lightly on the chest. "You go sit in the living room. You too, McGee," she ordered. Tony glanced at McGee who, in turn, shrugged and stood to follow him to the couch.

"Guess falling off a building has its advantages," Tony smirked.

"I hardly think it's worth nearly dying, to get out of dish-duty," Tim quipped.

"I never said I'd do it again, Probie," he made a face at him before plopping down onto the couch. "GAH!" he yelped and stiffened; his eyes clamped shut from the unexpected shooting of pain throughout his back upon impacting the couch.

"Oh god!" McGee panicked beside him, "A- are you okay?"

"I'm good," he squeaked in response. "Just...forgot...pain..." he cracked his eyes open to see Gibbs and Ziva had rushed into the room. "Sorry, guys," he apologized as he tried to suck up the residual waves of throbbing. "Pain killers make me think I'm okay till I come into contact with something that tells me otherwise," he pasted on a smile.

Gibbs sighed and turned back into the kitchen. Ziva walked up to Tony and sat in front of him on the coffee table, putting a hand on his forehead before allowing it to brush through his hair. "Do you need some more ibuprofen?" she asked him.

"Maybe in a little while," he said and took her hand, "I'm okay, Zi, really." She smiled at him and nodded before getting back up to join Gibbs in the kitchen. Tony turned his head to look at Tim. "You wanna play Battleship?" he smirked.

"It's no fun when there's no competition," Tim taunted with a smirk.

"That sounds like a dare," Tony said.

"Only a two player game," they heard Gibbs yell from the kitchen, and they both turned their heads in that direction.

"You wanna play, too, Boss?" Tony yelled.

"Not battleship," he replied.

"Got any cards?"

* * *

"I am out," Ziva said, folding her cards to the coffee table. "And I will take advantage of this time, to take a shower," she stood and made her way to the staircase.

"Well," Tony said as he picked up a small bag of chips from a pile of assorted junk food in front of him, "I raise a bag of barbeque ridges," he said as he placed it in the middle. He turned his head to look at Tim who seemed to be studying his cards intently. "That sleeping pill kicking in yet, Probie?" he asked.

"No, I'm just thinking," he defended and scratched around the cannula on his arm. Ducky had shown them how to take the IV tube out in the event he'd eaten. His antibiotic bag had emptied for the day, and wouldn't need to begin a new one until morning. "I'll meet your chips, and raise you a chocolate cupcake," he grinned as he pushed the items to the center.

"You _do_ realize that these are your junk food rations for the entire week, right?" Gibbs raised his brows. Tony and Tim shared a quick glance.

"You're trying to bluff us out," Tony grinned at his boss. Gibbs shrugged and matched their bets. Then he laid his cards face-up on the table top. "Aw...no!" Tony whined.

"Four aces!" Tim grinned. "What're the odds?" he threw his cards down on the table.

"Damnit," Tony tossed his cards down as well. "Come on, then. Let's play one more round. Gimme a chance to win some of that back," he said as Gibbs pulled the pile toward him.

"You should cut your losses, Tony," Tim said. "You've got enough to last you the week if you ration it out."

"Hey, this isn't enough for the whole week, McMunchies," he poked around the small pile remaining in front of him. "So unless you're planning to share, I need a chance to win some back."

"Well, regardless what we're doing, I need to use the bathroom first," Tim said as he pushed himself up from the couch. He wavered a bit when he was standing upright.

"You got that, McGee?" Gibbs studied him.

"Yeah, I'm good," he said as he started walking toward the bathroom. "Guess the sleeping pill is kicking in a little, after all."

"Guess that's it for the night," Gibbs said to Tony as he began collecting the cards.

"Boss?" Tony argued. "Boss, come on," he smirked, but Gibbs only glanced up at him briefly and continued picking up the cards. Tony's smile faded. "I'll give you twenty bucks for the junk food, Boss," he pleaded. Gibbs couldn't help but laugh at that. "I'm dead serious," Tony furrowed his brow.

*~.~*

McGee closed his eyes as he relieved his bladder. Drowsiness was catching up fast, and he was definitely ready to crash for the night. He flushed the toilet and turned to wash his hands. Lathering up his hands, he reveled in the hot water that rinsed it, and kept them there a little longer then necessary as it somehow relaxed him even further.

As he reached to turn off the tap, his vision began to blur, and he blinked hard a few times in attempt to clear it up. He reached for the towel and the room began to spin. A strange feeling started in the pit of his stomach. An eery familiarity came over him. Tim had never tried this medication before, but something about it was making him feel...afraid.

Fear...the last time he'd felt like this, was in Buffalo. 'Nonono...can't think like that. This isn't like that at all. I'm in Gibbs' bathroom. Just drying my hands in Gibbs' bathroom. And I can move. I couldn't move in that elevator...couldn't defend myself the last time I felt like this... no...nonono...'

McGee felt himself begin to lose control. His breath was becoming ragged; his heart racing. He needed to get out of there, to his friends...the people who would keep him safe. Something to hold onto...something...to hold on to...

He searched the room with his eyes, looking for something; anything he could concentrate on. Something that would keep him there, and keep him away from the elevator that was rushing back into his mind. But he was soon sinking to his knees, bringing the towel down with him as it held firmly clenched in his fist.

'Nononono...please...' "Tony!" he heard himself yell as tears stung his eyes and further blurred his vision, allowing the flashback to fully take him over...

*~.~*

Tony and Gibbs heard the strangled cry and dropped everything, taking off toward the bathroom. "McGee?" Tony opened the door and saw the distraught agent on the floor. Immediately he crouched down in front of him, "What's wrong?" he asked and searched his eyes.

"I'm sorry...I can't make it stop..." he cried. "Please..." Tony turned toward Gibbs who was kneeling beside him.

"Ice..." his request confirmed to his boss that McGee was having a flashback, and Gibbs stood and quickly went to retrieve the only remedy they thought could help at this point. "Tim," Tony took his shoulders, but McGee jerked away and scooted back along the floor until he hit the wall.

"No! No, please don't!" he yelled through tears. Tony felt a pang in his chest...McGee had never flinched away from him before...

"McGee, it's me...it's Tony," he chanced a step closer to him.

"Tony..." Tim crumbled into a ball on the floor.

"Yeah, it's me. I'm not gonna hurt you," he knelt down in front of him again. "I'm right here, okay? Not gonna let them hurt you," his voice cracked. He thought this would be over...it'd seemed like he was getting better.

"Please..." McGee's cries were a mere whisper now, and Tony chanced to take his arm in his hand. Gibbs was soon at his side and Tony turned Tim's hand over so Gibbs could place the cube in his palm and fold his fingers over it.

"McGee," Gibbs said, "You concentrate on what you feel in your hand," he demanded, firm but steady. They watched Tim's fist tighten hard around the ice. It seemed longer then it actually was, but eventually his hand opened and the cube dropped to the floor, a mere half its original size, and Tim's eyes opened to blink rapidly as he tried to focus on the men in front of him.

"I'm sorry," his voice cracked.

"It's okay," Tony said softly. "What happened?"

"I don't like the sleep aid," he said in an almost child-like manner. "Made everything..." his eyes darted around, "Made everything fuzzy...I'm tired," he looked down with half-closed lids.

"Let us help you to bed, Tim," Gibbs said, and carefully, they each took and arm and gently lifted Tim to his feet and guided him into the guest room and into his bed. His eyes closed when his head hit the pillow, and Gibbs checked his forehead to be sure he wasn't ill, before pulling the blanket up over him.

"I'm gonna crash, too," Tony told him. "Just to keep an eye on him." He sat on his own bed and chewed on his bottom lip as he studied the sleeping form of his friend. Gibbs patted Tony on the shoulder before heading out of the room, and Tony pushed back against the headboard and rubbed his palms against his stinging eyes.

"I can't do this," he heard Tim say and his head shot to look over at him.

"What?" he asked as his brow furrowed. Tim's eyes remained closed.

"How can I ever do my job if this keeps happening?" his head rolled to face Tony before his eyes cracked open. "I can't..."

"Hey, you're gonna be fine, Probie. You're getting better. This hasn't happened in a while. It was just the sleep meds. We won't use them anymore. Everything will be fine."

"It might've been the meds now, but what's it gonna be next time? I couldn't control anything in there...and I really tried, Tony," his voice cracked.

"You _did_ control it."

"_You _put the ice in my hand. I can't do any of this without help."

"Listen," Tony pushed himself out of his bed and knelt down beside Tim's and looked him straight in the eye. "You _are_ gonna get through this, Tim. I'm not gonna leave till you do. Hear me? No matter how long it takes, you can do this. You can beat this, even if I've gotta make you a Mr. Freeze ice cube tray ammo belt to wear around," his mouth turned up on either end and was relieved when Tim let out a small laugh, that ended up turning into a yawn. "Get some sleep, Probie," he said as he stood and ruffed the man's hair before turning to his own bed.

"Thanks, Tony," Tim said as he curled up on his side and allowed his heavy lids to close.

"G'night, McSleepyhead."

* * *

**Too tired to check for grammatical errors...wanted to get something up before bed. Sorry you had to wait so long. I don't even know when I posted the last chapter. Bleh...gnight! Oh and plz let me know if you liked this chapter and that it made sense. I'm bordering delirium, and if there's anything ridiculous, I'll fix it tomorrowz. :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Shout out of thanks to all readers and reviewers:) : smartkid37, chelsea1234, jgomez921, sparkiebunny, ncischick09, ncisfan89, cutezipie, gsr4ever, vulcangirl1983, B00w0rm92, siltrana, julie507 and azilee... anyone I left out, I apologize! But I thank you all so much! You keep me writing—the more reviews I see, the more I wanna write :) Thanks!**

* * *

McGee cracked open his eyes at the sound of light whispering. Tony and Ziva were sitting in the next bed over, and Tony was the one to notice he was awake. "Welcome to the land of the living, Probie," he grinned, and Ziva turned her head and smirked at Tim as well. McGee pushed himself up and back against the head board and heard Tony whisper something to Ziva. Tony then get up from his bed, "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything," he said and exited the room.

Tim looked at Ziva once the door closed behind Tony, and she was looking at him. "I do not know if you are ready to talk," she told him, "But _I_ am." He nervously scratched around his cannula and realized he'd been reconnected to the IV. He didn't know if he was ready, but he would at least listen to what Ziva had to say.

"Okay," he told her, and watched her get up from the other bed and make her way to his, climbing in beside him like she had before. For a long moment, Ziva seemed to be struggling for courage. Or at least, trying to summon the power not to become emotional when she would begin.

"For a while," she started, "I believed that they were done with me. When the beatings stopped suddenly, they seemed to let me be." Tim was instantly aware of where she'd decided to begin. "They brought me no food for days. Gave me just enough water to survive," she was showing no emotion as she spoke, but McGee looked at her intently. "I thought, surely they were preparing to send me back to my father, maybe. Allowing me enough time to heal...or to die. But at that point, I had not let go of _all_ hope."

She was quiet for a moment, her gaze falling somewhere across the room and darting about as she collected herself to continue. "That is when..." she swallowed, "He came to me. Knowing I would be at my weakest disadvantage. But he told me he'd only given me time free of torture so that he would have something pretty to..." she bit her tongue and closed her eyes briefly against the pain of recollection.

McGee's brow furrowed and he put his free arm around her shoulders to give some kind of anchor of support. "He came to me for so many days and nights," her voice was shaky, but amazingly calm, though her eyes were stinging. "And I tried my hardest to show no fear to him; give him no satisfaction. But he was relentless. And I prayed for the days of torture to return and for _that_ to end. But it was never answered," a tear streaked stubbornly down her cheek and she quickly flicked it away. "And in those moments, I had prepared my willingness to die; for all of it to end. But perhaps my biggest fear the entire time I was there...my biggest regret...was that I had abandoned all of you," she looked over at him. "That I would never be able to tell you all how much you meant to me... and...I never thought any of you cared enough to come for me."

Tim squeezed her closer to him, "But you know we did," he said in a low voice, "And we still do."

"Yes," she replied as her head lowered to his shoulder. "And for a long time after that, I felt...numb. That I did not deserve what you all had done; what you had risked to find me. Or what you'd risked to avenge me when you thought I had been killed." Tim swallowed. "I felt...strangely out of place for a long time. Undeserving and confused, as though some part of me really did die in that place. I suffered the after-effects alone, by choice. Tried to keep it away from work; away from all of you. But Tony," she smirked, "Was persistent with vague questions here and there. He saw through me. If anything, it taught me to hide it better. And I was terrified for a long time that it would interfere with my job... that something would happen out in the field and I would break down. No one would understand why. And I could end up getting one of you hurt or killed."

"How did you get through it?" he found himself asking.

"Little things," she said. "The way you all consistently comforted me, even if you did not know. Little things that were said and done. Just knowing that you were all there and ready to listen if I needed to say something...even if I did not take the offer. Knowing that you cared, made the difference for me. And when you live your life under stipulations that those courtesies do not really exist, it is powerful when you discover that they do."

He nodded in understanding, and yet sadness had washed over his face. Ziva turned and kissed his cheek before settling her head back down on his shoulder.

"I used to not even be able to think about it without making the flashbacks start," Tim began. Ziva stayed on his shoulder as he spoke, not wanting him to be halted by movement. "I guess in a way, they'd made me weak, just like what happened to you, before they did what they did. I couldn't defend myself. When he-" his voice paused and Ziva felt his hand shaking on her shoulder, and she reached her hand up to cover his. "I thought it might be over when the first one was finished. Thought it was done...and I could just...I don't know. I guess maybe part of me was hoping for them to just shoot me and leave me to die."

Ziva knew that feeling all too well, and tears streaked her cheeks for the pain he'd endured. "But then..." his breath shuddered from his chest, "Then it started all over again. And I just wanted to say, 'please just kill me first...then you can do whatever you want with me'. I knew they'd pay for what they'd done, somehow. I knew that all of you would figure out what happened to me, and stop at nothing to bring them down. But I didn't know I'd be around for it."

"I understand," she said simply, and he took great comfort in that statement. He felt her turn more to face his body and her hand left his to drape across his chest and settle on his opposite shoulder. Her cheek, now gently pressed against his; both of their heads leaning back against the smooth head board behind them, as she held him close, allowing him the comfort he needed to continue.

"I never had the luxury...or maybe the disadvantage, to keep it all hidden from everyone," he said. "And I guess I'm really glad about that...'cause I'm not as strong as you."

"You are," she told him. "You are stronger." He laughed at that.

"You could kick my ass in a heartbeat," he said. "And you don't fall apart at the seams like I do."

"You are wrong," she pulled away so she could look into his eyes. "Because I do not show my pain, does not mean that I do not feel it. I have been a coward to hide that from you," her eyes darted back and forth between his. "And you are much braver to face this anywhere outside of yourself. To ask for help...to have the courage to open up and trust the people who care about you. That is something that I have always feared, even now." Tim's brow was furrowed as he listened to her; his eyes stinging with something other than self-pity...something like...absolution. "_You_ have helped me to understand that," she told him, a tear making its way down a predetermined path on her cheek. "I thought that maybe I was supposed to help _you_, but really we needed to help each other."

Tim was at a loss for words, but felt an overwhelming urge to hug her. So he did. And it was simple...easy... healing, like a mother's kiss on a scraped knee. It was this way for both of them, and it overwhelmed them both. And unexpectedly, Ziva openly sobbed in his arms; her quaking shoulders not unaccompanied by voiced tears. He only held her tighter and realized in that moment, that she was right. His healing would be less painful then hers, and it was because he hadn't kept it locked away. Tim had the complete and open support of the people he cared about the most. And his only regret was not having been as adamant as Tony about getting her to open up when she needed it.

Ziva's tears tore at his heart, even though he knew they were healing tears. She was like a sister to him, and it caused him great sorrow to know she'd been through so much more pain then they'd imagined. But the sounds of her tears didn't mask a sniffling he'd heard outside the door, and a shadow that had moved beneath it. He knew it was Tony, but he wasn't angry that he'd decided to let himself in on the conversation. In fact, he was relieved. But he was moving away from the door now, probably to go hide away somewhere so he wouldn't be heard.

McGee held her, and she held him...through the release of everything they'd held in, and everything that might come. It was an end, and a beginning, and they both felt the weight lifted; the proverbial curtains open to let in the light. A dam, bursting open, leaving great relief in emptiness, but restored with new hope and faith...and love...

* * *

Tony leaned on the railing over the deck, looking out into the yard; the conversation between Ziva and Tim, playing fresh in his mind. He'd been too late to save either of them... Though his brain told him he wasn't to blame for what happened, his heart screamed that there were ways he could've prevented it.

He'd never quite let himself off the hook for causing Ziva's choice to stay behind in Tel Aviv. Had he stayed out of her business, he wouldn't have ended up at her apartment and ultimately forced away every ounce of trust she'd once had for him. In the end, it'd been her choice to stay behind; her choice not to talk to him about it...she just, simply, ran away.

"You okay?" Gibbs said as he came out onto the deck and shut the door behind him. Tony only slightly turned his head to acknowledge his appearance before turning his gaze back out into the yard as he straightened up.

"Yeah," he told him as his boss walked to stand beside him and handed him a mug of coffee. "Thanks," he said as he took the cup. "You talk to Ducky and see how Abby's doing?"

"Turns out she got food-poisoning," he said. "Said she feels better this morning and she rode in to work with Ducky."

"Well, that's good. I mean...that she's not sick anymore," he said, then took a sip of the coffee. Gibbs took note of the agent's red eyes before turning around to lean back on the railing.

"Ziva talkin' with McGee?" he asked.

"Yeah," he looked down into the steaming mug.

"You worried about somethin'?" Tony looked at him, then furrowed his brow just briefly before slacking his face again.

"I wouldn't call it 'worrying', Boss," he smirked. "More like dwelling. Or maybe...trying _not_ to dwell." Gibbs cocked his head with a slight smirk playing on his lips for just a moment before responding.

"She talk to you, before talkin' to him?"

"She told me what subject she'd be discussing, but that's it." Gibbs drank from his mug without looking away from Tony, waiting for him to continue. "I think she didn't wanna talk to me about it 'cause she was afraid I wouldn't look at her the same."

"So you were eavesdropping," he surmised.

"I...overheard."

"Uh huh," Gibbs said, "So...was she right in her assumption?"

"Absolutely not," he said with narrowed eyes.

"So what're you gonna do with that information?" he asked. Tony furrowed his brow as his eyes darted around somewhere beside his boss. He hadn't really thought about that.

"Bury it deep inside the recesses of my mind?" he replied with squinting eyes. Gibbs gave an amused but stern glare. With a smirk, Tony changed his answer, "I'm sure my therapist will help me out with that." Tony closed his eyes and turned away as he felt the onslaught of unexpected tears. "Jesus, what's wrong with me?" Tony said as he felt his chest burn with sobs as he leaned down on the railing in attempt to hide his face.

Gibbs wasn't sure how to respond to the sudden change in his agent's mood. But he quickly grabbed the mug from Tony's shaking hand and set it down on the railing with his own. "What's goin' on, Tony?" he furrowed his brow.

"I dunno, Boss," he said through a sob. "This is the second time I've just...lost it... I don't understand," his breath hitched, "DiNozzo's don't cry, Boss..." Gibbs laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly in hopes to pull him out of this. He knew of the first time it had happened; in the hospital when he'd realized he could read again...

"When's your next appointment with your therapist?" he asked. Tony pushed himself up from the railing, still keeping his face hidden as he wiped the tears from his face and tried to gain control; compose himself.

"I was supposed to call and make one for McGee this week. I was gonna go with him."

"Maybe you should make that call and try to get in today," he suggested. "I'll take ya." Tony turned his body to face his boss; his eyes still blinking back any more threatening tears.

"Ya think something else broke when I whacked my head?" he said with a small laugh. Gibbs smirked and cocked his head.

"Think they woulda seen that in one of the scans," he said. Tony nodded, maybe over-exaggeratedly, and Gibbs noticed his eyes welling with tears again. "Hey," he put his hands on the agent's shoulders and Tony ducked his head and put his own hands on his hips. The older man could hear the struggled breathing of his senior agent as he tried desperately to hold the tears at bay. "We'll figure this out," he told him. "Okay?"

Tony nodded again, "Yeah, Boss." His voice was but a whisper, and Gibbs saw a droplet fall between them. Tony sniffled and let out a shaky breath, "I'm sorry..." he apologized as his control slipped again. One of Gibbs' hands lifted from Tony's shoulder and petted the distraught agent's head.

"It's okay, Tony," he said as he felt Tony's shoulders begin to shake. "Everything's gonna be okay." Tony hated that he was like this in front of Gibbs, yet again. Especially since he couldn't understand why... he felt like his heart was breaking, but had no explanation as to why.

"Gotta use the head," Tony's voice cracked as he turned and hurriedly made his way through the door and toward the bathroom, leaving Gibbs on the deck. Once he was inside, he shut the bathroom door and slid down to the floor with his back up against it, burying his head between his arms. He cursed under his breath at himself; anger mixing thickly with the unwelcome sadness that insisted upon raining down on him.

He yanked his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a number into it as he took some deep breaths to try and steady himself enough to speak. "Can I speak with Dr. Arthur, please?"

* * *

Gibbs waited at least five minutes in the kitchen, before Tony came out of the bathroom and appeared in the doorway. He stood calmly, studying the agent who seemed to have collected himself in the short time since he'd left him on the deck. "He can take me now," Tony told him. "It's not far from here, if you're still willing to drive me there."

"Yeah," Gibbs set his mug down on the counter and grabbed a sticky pad and pen, jotting something down before pulling the top sheet off and walking toward the guest room. Tony started toward the front door as Gibbs stuck the note on the door, hearing the faint voices of Tim and Ziva, then followed Tony out to the car.

* * *

"You still feeling sick, Abby?" Vance said when he entered the lab to find the forensic goth staring blankly at the evidence table. She looked over at him.

"No, I'm fine," she replied. "I haven't had enough time to go through all the evidence you sent down this morning," she said as she shuffled through the evidence bags on the table.

"I didn't think you did," he said as he approached the table.

"Then...no disrespect intended, Director, but why are you here?" she asked. He glanced over at a parcel that sat on the edge of the table away from the rest of the evidence, and walked to stand in front of it.

"This isn't part of what I sent down," he said. She looked at the box then back up at Vance. "This was sent from Buffalo PD. It should've been processed and filed away with the rest of the Millennium case evidence." She glanced down at the box again. "If you can't handle it, I can get someone else to-"

"No," she interjected. "McGee wouldn't want anyone else to see it. I'll do it," she picked up the box and held it protectively in her arms.

"See that you do. Let me know when you've had a chance to go over the rest of this," he said as he made his way toward the exit. "And Abby," he said as he paused his steps to look back at her, "If you need time, you tell me."

Abby blinked for a moment, then nodded in acknowledgment of his gesture. He turned and walked out. Abby took the parcel into her office and sat down in her chair, fingering the seal before tearing it open. Inside, was the sealed evidence bag containing Tim's discarded clothes recovered from the trash bin of the hotel. She didn't need to inspect them; she'd seen the photos and the report. But seeing them in person, somehow made it all...more real.

She quickly closed the box again and laid it on her desk. Glancing briefly at the futon, her eyes began to sting, and suddenly she felt the urge to go see Ducky... she desperately needed guidance as to how to go about interacting with Tim, without causing him possible discomfort.

As she rode the elevator down, she pondered the fact that she'd been too afraid to talk about it with McGee at this point. But she wanted to be there for him; help him somehow. For someone who loved him like she did, she seemed to be the furthest away from where she wanted to be... And being honest with herself, Abby wanted Tim to ask her for it. As selfish at it may have been, she wanted Tim to need her like he'd needed Tony all this time.

Abby found herself in the morgue, having gotten there simply on auto-pilot. Of course, the M.E was in the middle of an autopsy, but she sat down in the chair in front of Ducky's desk and waited. Ducky turned and saw her when the doors had hissed open and closed again. Noticing the discomfort in the girl's face, he knew she needed to speak with him.

"Jimmy," he said to his assistant as he turned his head back toward him. "Would you mind carrying on a bit without me?" Jimmy's eyes focused on Abby for a moment before returning to the doctor.

"Of course, Dr. Mallard," he said with a small smile, and Ducky removed his face guard and gloves, making his way toward her.

"Dear Abigail, you seem upset," he said, and took her hand. "I take it you came down here to talk?" She nodded. "Let's go for a walk..."

* * *

**I know this was a shorter chapter then usual, but I wanted to get something up before bed. Hope you enjoyed it! I'll have more up tomorrow.**


	24. Chapter 24

"It sounds to me like you've reached a boiling-over point," Aiden told Tony after he'd explained what was going on. "It's very frightening, what happened to you, and being personally convinced your life could change forever. Then being handed your life back-- that's very emotional. Especially the guilt you feel that your friend is still suffering and still uncertain of his own future."

Tony simply listened as he continued. "Hearing a conversation between two people you care deeply about, and being unable to show your own compassion you so desperately want to show, is pretty taxing as well."

"I don't want the focus of their pain to be distracted by my own," Tony retorted. Aiden made a small smile.

"You're sounding a bit like Tim," he said. Tony narrowed his eyes. "It's a valid feeling, Tony. But it's also making you more prone to sudden uncontrollable outbursts of pain at otherwise inappropriate times."

"There's been plenty of times in my life that I never voiced my feelings to anyone, and never had trouble holding back how I felt."

"Yes, I'm sure that's true for pretty much everyone on the planet. But you took a beating to your skull."

"So I _am_ broken..."

"No, not necessarily. But your brain power is being significantly drained for healing the damage. Sometimes, it takes a while for the power to recharge and work on controlling feelings you already have. You _do_ feel this overwhelming emotional pain, Tony," he told him. "It's not creating it. It's just that there's nothing to hinder your physical response to it right now. So if you had the choice, and could direct where your brain power gets used right now, would you take the focus off healing the injury and move it over to sustain your will to wall-in your emotion?"

Tony let that question swarm around for a moment before answering, "No..."

"Okay. So what do you think you should do until everything evens itself out?"

"I...I don't know. Seclude myself from the world? But I can't do that right now."

"I don't think you should seclude yourself, but why _couldn't_ you do that? Because Tim needs you?"

"Well...yeah... Should I not be there for him?"

"You should be there," he told him. "But you shouldn't hide away from him because of how you feel when you're there for him. It'll make him feel guilty even more so."

"If I break down in front of him, he'll blame himself for my pain. I don't wanna do that to him."

"Well, Tony, I'm sure if you explain to him what's going on, he'll focus more on the fact that you're in pain, then why it's there. In fact, I can tell that he wants to be there for you, too; his chance to return some of what you've been dishing out for _him_."

"Maybe...but you don't know him like I do. He could take it all the wrong way."

"Then tell him that he can't," Aiden said sternly. "Tell him why you feel the way you feel, and tell him that it'll hurt even more if he takes the blame for any of it. It's that or hide away, and I _know_ that _will_ hurt him." Tony looked down at the carpet on the floor between where each of them sat. "And I'm pretty sure it'd hurt you too."

Tony looked back up at him then. Taking a deep breath, he accepted the advice of the man in front of him. Though it would be a difficult road to take, a new outlook from everything he'd ever known to do before, he wouldn't give up his responsibility to his friends. However painful or embarrassing it might end up being, he needed to get through this...even if it meant it'd be displayed in front of them. If Tim could do it, so could he...

* * *

"Hey, Duck," Gibbs said into his phone when he saw it was the doctor calling.

_"Hello, Jethro. I felt the need to make you aware of something for Abigail's sake."_

"Somethin' happen to her?" he asked, with a sense of alarm that crept into him.

_"No, no. That's not it. She came to me a bit unnerved at the arrival of a package that came to her from Buffalo."_

"McGee's clothes," he surmised.

_"Yes. However, her concern was more for the fact that she feels she's not done enough for Timothy. Or rather that she's not had the opportunity to."_

"He's only asked for Tony, Duck."

_"I know. However, I do believe it would benefit both of them if she were able to have some one-on-one time with the lad."_

"There a reason you believe that?" Gibbs asked curiously.

_"Well the obvious reason is that they're close friends. But young Timothy has been through a life-altering change. They haven't kindled a friendship out of that stage yet, and I think it would be wise to allow them some time to discuss it. Once he comes back, if Abby's been left out of that opportunity, I'm afraid it would be quite difficult, if not awkward, to go through it again. It would undoubtedly force him to have to talk about it again. Something that shouldn't have to wait, especially after he's recovered. The rest of us have had our moments with him; let him know that we know and understand. Abby has not. She wants him to need her, like he needs Tony."_

Gibbs smirked at the notion. He knew how Abby's mind worked, and that she genuinely cared for McGee. But this was more for reasons of her own need. Normally, he'd shove the idea aside and tell her to deal with it. Possibly even help her through it himself. But he also knew McGee would need this too. Tony needed some time to himself, if only for a little while anyway.

"Tell her to come by after work," he told the M.E. "She can stay with him until Tony and Ziva get back."

_"Are they going somewhere?"_

"They will be."

* * *

"Apparently, the have gone out," Ziva said as she and Tim made their way into the kitchen with the note.

"Does it say where?"

"No. Just to call if we needed anything," she stuck the note to Tim's shirt and turned to open the fridge. He pulled the note from his shirt with a smirk and looked at what was obviously Gibbs' handwriting. "Do you want a sandwich?" she asked.

"Sure," he replied as he sat down at the table and thumbed the corners of the note. McGee wondered if their departure had anything to do with Tony's overhearing of the conversation he and Ziva had. "Where do you think they went?" he asked.

"Possibly to the store," she replied as she set some items on the counter. "It looks like we are low on groceries."

"You think Tony should be going out for that kinda stuff already?" Ziva looked back at him with question, then smirked.

"I am sure he simply wanted to get out and stretch his legs for a while," she said as she turned back to continue making their sandwiches. "Or perhaps to give us some privacy as we talked."

"Maybe," he said as he looked back down at the note.

"You worry too much, McGee," she said without looking up from her work. "If something happened, they would have told us." She walked to the table and set both plates down, sliding one to McGee as she sat.

"Thanks," he said, pushing the note to the side as he eyed the meal. "I wonder how Abby's doing."

"Mm," she said before swallowing a bite of her sandwich, "We can call her after lunch. I am sure Ducky did not leave her unattended."

"Well knowing Abby, she probably went into work anyway," he said before taking a bite of his sandwich.

"You are probably right," she replied before taking another bite and standing to fetch two bottles of water from the fridge. Tim went to grab one from her hand, but was stopped by the IV tubing.

"I can't wait to be rid of this thing," he said as he reached for the water with his other hand.

"Ducky said just another week. I think you will manage," she said as she took another bite.

* * *

"So how'd it go?" Gibbs asked as they pulled out of the parking lot. Tony took a breath before answering.

"He says it should go away when everything's healed up with the rest of my brain," he said with a smirk.

"He tell you what to do in the meantime?" he asked, glancing briefly at the agent.

"Supposed to let McGee know what's going on with me and, of course, make him understand it's not his fault. Which, I gotta say, is gonna be pretty difficult."

Gibbs smirked and nodded, "Like it is with all of you."

"Got me there, Boss," he grinned.

"Abby wants to stay with him tonight," he said. Tony's head turned to look at him.

"You mean...like in the same room?" he asked. Gibbs shrugged.

"She wants to do her part," he explained. Tony nodded in acknowledgment as he looked back out the windshield. "I think you and Ziva should take the afternoon off; do some talkin'."

Tony looked back at him for a moment with narrowed eyes. "How much, exactly, do you know about that?"

"'Bout what?" he cocked his head slightly.

"You know...or at least I _think_ ya do, or you wouldn't be suggesting I talk to her," he watched his boss carefully. Gibbs hand came up off the steering wheel for a moment, hovering, then he set it back down. "I take that as a mental head slap," Tony smirked. "Don't worry, Boss. There's plenty of other areas of my skull that can take a beating."

"Don't tempt me," he smirked. "And what happens with you and Ziva, as long as it stays outta the office and outta the field, is your business. Just need to know that if things don't work out, it won't affect your ability to work together."

"Well, I'm hoping the plan is to work out," Tony said as he looked back out the window. "But it's reassuring to have your...blessing..." he looked at him from the corner of his eye. When no verbal response came, he decided to ask something else. "Abby and McGee," he started. "I'm pretty sure they uh...well, that is, Probie told me they were...getting back together...possibly."

Gibbs slowly nodded. "Might be good for him," he said. "But I think Abby might need some counsel as far as where to take it."

"What do you mean?" he asked, then thought for a moment. "Oh...I think I get it. Yeah, you're probably right. Maybe I should call Dr. Arthur and see if he can fit Abby into one of McGee's sessions."

"You getting a discount for bringin' in all this business?" he smirked. Tony let out a small laugh.

* * *

When Tony and Gibbs walked into the house, they heard a bustling about the kitchen. As they made the way there, they saw Ziva washing dishes, and Tim drying them. "Hey," Tim greeted them. "We were wondering when you'd get back."

"Ziva put you to work, eh?" Tony smirked.

"If you are hungry, I made a couple sandwiches and left them in the fridge for you both," Ziva said. As Gibbs went for the fridge, Tony kissed Ziva's cheek.

"Thanks," he told her and turned to take a sandwich from the plate Gibbs held out. McGee smirked at Ziva who had glanced at him nervously after the kiss, and she blushed just barely, before returning a small smile. "We should take a picture," Tony said with a mouthful of sandwich. "Probie helping with dishes whilst dragging around an IV pole. You're a slave-driving ninja, Ziva."

"Hey, I insisted on helping," Tim defended. Tony and Gibbs sat at the table.

"So I guess you're feelin' pretty good today?" Tony asked before taking another bite of the sandwich.

"Yeah," Tim replied with a smirk. "So where'd you go?"

"Actually, I'm gonna talk to you about that when you're done," he replied, finishing off his sandwich.

"Go ahead," Ziva told Tim. "I can dry the rest of these."

"Wanna go out on the deck?" Tim asked Tony as he turned.

"Sure," Tony stood and grabbed a couple bottles of water before following him out, and shutting the door behind them. "So..." Tony began as they both sat in chairs facing the yard. "This is kinda new for me; talkin' about...well, my problems..."

"What do you mean, 'problems'?"

"I went to talk to Aiden today," he told him.

"I didn't realize you had an appointment."

"Well, I didn't really. I called and asked if he could see me," he paused for a moment before continuing. "Remember when I kinda broke down for no reason in the hospital?" Tim nodded. "Well...it happened again this morning; in front of Gibbs, no less."

"Over what?" Tim had an idea, but still was concerned.

"Doesn't really matter why. It's just that I have no control over what I feel...no wait; that's not it. I can't hold anything in, basically. If I'm feeling a little blue about something, I melt down like an infant. You saw me in the hospital, McGee. You know what I'm talkin' about."

"Yeah. Well, what'd he say?"

"He said he thinks the part of my brain that'd normally help me keep some kinda emotional control, is too busy rehabilitating the part that got whacked. So once that's all said and done, I should start getting back to normal."

"And he told you to tell me?" he cocked his head.

"Well, yeah. And I wanted to... You should know because I might end up freakin' out on you again, and I don't want you to think that it has anything to do with you. If I get upset about something we end up talkin' about, I don't want you to think you're the reason it's happening. It's just me being unable to hold anything back as far as responding."

"Okay..." Tim studied him with a furrowed brow.

"It's not _creating_ more intense emotion. Just makes it less possible to...I dunno...contain myself."

"Well that's okay, Tony," he said. "As long as I'm allowed to help you through it, instead of you running out of the room to hide yourself." Tony considered that statement.

"I don't like people seein' me cry, Probie."

"Yeah, well either do I. But I've trusted you this whole time with my tears. You gotta trust me with yours. You think I'm not embarrassed when I break down in front of you?" Tony shrugged. "Well I kinda am. But I also know you won't turn it around and use it against me."

"'Course I wouldn't."

"Well then you should trust me to do the same for you. You're one of the strongest people I know, Tony. This isn't gonna make me change that opinion." Tony studied his friend as he spoke. "I know it's just temporary and all, but I don't really want you to take off until it goes away."

"I'm not goin' anyway, McGee. That's why I'm tellin' you this in the first place. I just didn't want you to misunderstand if it should happen again."

"Okay," he replied, simply. Tony handed him one of the waters and leaned back in his chair.

"So, Abby's coming to spend the night with you tonight."

"Isn't she sick?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"Turns out it was food poisoning. But anyway, yeah, she wants to spend some time with you. I think she might be slightly annoyed that I'm getting all your attention," Tony laughed. Tim smirked.

"Abby needs to be needed. I get that. I guess it'd be nice to see her outside of the hospital for a bit." After a few silent moments, a blush pasted McGee's cheeks, and it made Tony grin.

"I'm sure you'll enjoy it, McRomeo."

* * *

Gibbs and Ziva were on the front porch as he finished discussing Tony's situation with her. Tony had asked if he would give her the short version until he had the chance to fill the rest in without sounding like a broken record to himself.

"I want you and him to go somewhere and talk," Gibbs told her. "He's talkin' to McGee right now, then Abby will be here for the night to take over. I think he needs to get outta here for a while and get some things off his chest." Ziva's brow furrowed for a moment.

"As much as I agree, taking him away from McGee for the night would not be a good idea," she said. "That is usually when he needs him the most."

"Yeah, I know that, Ziver. Come back here tonight with him. But for now, I want you both outta here. If we need him back here, I'll call."

"It is not just McGee I am concerned about," she said as her eyes darted back and forth between his. Gibbs narrowed his eyes in question. "If anything happened to him and Tony was not there, he would... not take it well," her gaze fell to his chest. "As irrational as it may be, he would blame himself."

"I don't make a habit of feeding irrational fears," Gibbs retorted.

"I am aware, Gibbs. But this is different. Especially now, being unable to set aside any irrational feelings he might have... I am simply concerned."

"Okay, I get it," he cocked his head. "So go out, have a talk, and come back. But try to talk some sense into him, will ya?" he smirked.

"I will try," she softened and a smile played on the corner of her mouth.

"You guys talkin' about me?" Tony came out onto the porch.

"Just finished, actually," Ziva said and took his arm in hers. "Come with me to get some things from your apartment."

* * *

Gibbs helped to remove the IV tube from McGee's cannula once the antibiotic bag was empty. "You okay with Abby coming over?" Gibbs asked.

"Yeah, Boss, why wouldn't I be?"

"Just askin'," he said with a bit of a smirk. "I know you like her, Tim. Just wanna make sure you're gonna be comfortable bein' alone with her right now."

"I uh..." Tim thought about the statement for a moment. "I can't really think of a reason I _wouldn't_ be," he said. Gibbs nodded in acknowledgment. "Do you...do you think I will be?" he asked, suddenly a bit confused.

"No," he replied. "I just didn't wanna put you in a situation if you didn't approve."

"Oh," he replied. Then after a moment of thought, nodded and sat back against the head board.

"You want me to bring you anything?" Gibbs asked as he stood and made his way toward the door.

"No, thanks. I'm actually kinda tired, so I think I'm gonna take a nap until she gets here."

"Want me to wake you when she does?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. Just send her in I guess. Thanks," he shifted to lay flat on the bed as Gibbs shut the door behind him.

* * *

"Are you okay?" Ziva asked as she crawled up behind him on the bed. Tony was sitting off the side of it, looking at the alarm clock that sat on the nightstand. He'd been quiet for a long while, and she'd started to worry.

"I was just remembering when McGoo called that night," he said in a quiet voice. Ziva wound her arms around him, settling lightly on his chest. His hands came up to cover hers. "I wonder how long it'd happened before he called me..." With her ear resting lightly against his back, she could hear his breath begin to shake. She searched her mind for something comforting to say, but she knew there was nothing that would pull him from this.

"He is okay now, Tony," she said softly. He nodded as he tried to take comfort in that fact. Twisting around in her arms, he shifted to lay down beside her in the bed, curling up against her chest. She held him and stroked his hair.

"I'm sorry, Zi, I'm trying," he said in just a whisper.

"It is okay," she kissed his head. "You should have talked to me about this before. About how much you were hurting."

"Really, I'm okay," he said, though his voice cracked. "Normally, I could handle this..."

"You mean, 'pretend' to handle it," she corrected.

"Isn't that was we all do?" he responded with something between a laugh and a sob. She held him tighter. "I was too late, Zi," his voice cracked again with his words, "For both of you..."

"Tony," she began, then came to a realization. "You heard us talking."

"I'm sorry..." he began to pull away, but she held him firmly.

"It is okay, Tony. You deserved to know what happened to me. I am sorry you had to hear it being said to someone else. I should have talked to you."

"That's your choice," he said. "I'm sorry I took that away from you."

"Tony, I love you," she scooted down on the bed so her face was in front of his, and her hands cupped his face as she searched his eyes. "I should have talked to you first. But I am glad you heard it, so that I do not have to say it again," tears stung her eyes when she saw the redness in his.

Tony's hand came up to her face as he looked into her eyes. "I love you...so much, Zi," he told her, then pressed his lips to hers.

* * *

McGee was slowly pulled from his sleep as he felt the bed dip beside him. He cracked his eyes open to see Abby lying beside him under the covers. "Hey," he said with a smile playing on his lips. She returned the smile. "How long have you been here?"

"Just got here a little while ago," she said quietly. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I was just gonna watch you for a bit."

"Why would you wanna do that?" he laughed lightly.

"You're cute when you're sleeping," she said and scooted forward a bit. He smirked.

"What, I'm not when I'm awake?"

"No," she narrowed her eyes. "You're sexy when you're awake," she scooted closer still, and Tim's mind swam.

"What?" he asked, as if he'd somehow misunderstood. Abby's hands settled on his chest and she inched her head closer to him and kissed him. It started out chaste, but something stirred inside of him. The kiss grew more fevered; his hands moved to her waist as her body moved flush against his.

"Timmy," she pulled her face away slightly, "If this makes you uncomfortable..."

"Please, Abby..." he looked at her with heavy-lidded, lustful eyes before crushing his mouth back onto hers. She felt his need at her hip and her hand slid down between them, gripping him through his sweatpants. He groaned against her mouth as he thrust against her hand.

She let go of him, moving her hand up a bit, then down into his pants so she could grasp him. Tim pulled from the kiss; his forehead pressing against hers as her hand moved up and down on his shaft. His breath was hitched and labored as she worked. She knew he needed this release, and she watched his face as it contorted. Abby wasn't even moving her hand now; he was in complete control, thrusting himself faster and harder; the head of his penis hitting the exposed skin of her hip, over and over.

"Oh god...oh god, Abby..." he grunted before he went over the edge. With his release, came tears...sobbing... Abby hadn't expected it, but understood immediately, and pulled her hand up to his head, pulling his face against her.

"It's okay, Tim," she petted him as he cried. "Sshh...it's okay." His arms wrapped around her and he let himself cry into her shoulder. "I love you," she told him, then felt him squeeze her tighter to him.

* * *

**I know it's been unusually long (for me) since updating. It's been an emotionally jarring week. I've been trying to get writing in- it's therapeutic in a way. But sometimes life just gets in the way. Hope this chapter lived up to its expectations! I hope to have more up tomorrow :)**


	25. Chapter 25

**I took a long stare at this blank document page and thought about what to do after the end of the last chapter... then I decided to skip a bit ahead. Hahaha! It's time for this story to come to its end. So this or next chapter will finish it off. Hopefully, with a satisfying result. Enjoy!**

* * *

**One week later...**

Timothy McGee walked into his apartment with a rather large stack of mail he'd picked up from the post office, where he'd had it forwarded until he would return home. Setting his keys on the counter, then plugging in his cell to charge, he moved to his chair at the computer and began shuffling through it the envelopes.

His bills had been on auto-pay, so he didn't expect much but junk mail. What he didn't expect to find, was a letter from Bedford Hills Correctional Facility... His heart began to pound in his ears, and he sprung to his feet; the rest of the envelopes scattered to the floor as he made his way toward the door, grabbing his keys on the way out.

Everyone was back at work today, except for Tim. He'd been at the doctor's office getting a check-up before he brought himself home. At the time, he'd insisted he could do it all himself. But now...he needed his friends. There was no telling what was in that letter, but he wasn't going to open it until he was closer to them...

* * *

"Geez, I thought I had a lot of mail at my _apartment_," Tony said as he picked up the stack in his in-box.

"Apparently, you are more popular than you thought," Ziva smirked from her desk.

"Or you owe a lot of people money," Gibbs said as he strolled into the bullpen; coffee in hand.

"Looks mostly like junk," Tony said as he systematically shuffled through the deck, throwing random things into the trash bin beside his desk.

"Did McGee call after his appointment?" Ziva asked.

"His phone died mid-call," Tony replied. "But he said he was on the way back to his place..." his voice drifted off as he came to an envelope that made his gut churn. Gibbs looked at him then, and watched his brow furrow as he stared at the mail in his lap.

"What is it?" Gibbs asked from his desk. Tony looked up at him.

"Vanessa Andrews," he began, "She was sent to Bedford Hills Correctional, right?" Gibbs nodded as he stood and walked over to him. Tony held up the envelope.

"Let's get it down to Abby," Gibbs said, and Tony stood and followed him. Chances of a letter coming from a prison with any dangerous substance was a bit far-fetched, but after the incident with the plague, they weren't taking any chances. "Ziva, you call and tell them to ask her how the hell she knew where to send that," he shouted as they boarded the elevator.

"I think I know, Boss," Tony told him. Gibbs narrowed his eyes at the agent. "She was workin' the front desk at the Millennium. I gave her my card..."

* * *

_Your heart was in the right place._

_ Open eyes helped you find him._

_ Under every rock, I will look for you._

_ When you have stopped worrying about it_

_ I will be there_

_ Looking for you_

_ Looking for him_

_ Don't worry about it any longer_

_ I'll take care of everything._

_ Everything will make sense soon enough..._

"It's a poem," Tony said as they finished reading it under the light in Abby's lab.

"It's acrostic," Abby told them. "Look at every first letter. Look at what it spells..."

"You will die," Gibbs read.

"You think she's got a hit out on me, Boss?" Tony asked with a hint of a smirk. Suddenly, Gibbs cell chirped in his pocket, and he fished it out to answer.

"Yeah, Gibbs." He was silent for just a moment before ending the call. He looked at Tony. "You said McGee's phone is dead?"

"Yeah. What is it?" he asked, following Gibbs who had quickly made his way out of the lab.

"Andrews isn't in her cell," he told him as they boarded the elevator.

"What?" his chest was burning now.

"She may have escaped, but they don't know when. Last they'd seen her was last night."

"How is that even possible?" Tony asked as the doors opened and they made their way to the bullpen to retrieve their badges and guns.

"Buffalo PD found footage of her boarding a bus," Ziva said as she put it up on the big screen. "Heading south from there. She could be anywhere now." Tony's cell rang and he picked it up, checking the caller ID, which read 'unknown'. He glanced at Gibbs before answering.

"DiNozzo," he said.

_"I have your friend," _Vanessa's voice rang through the phone, and Tony's face paled.

"Where?" he asked.

_"At your boss's house,"_ she replied. _"I couldn't risk being in that paper-wall apartment. Not with what I have planned."_

"What do you want?" his voice was low and steady, but laced thickly with anger.

_"You. Come alone, or he dies." _The line disconnected and Tony stood there eyes darting around in front of him as he lowered the phone.

"Was it her?" Gibbs was suddenly in front of him. Tony nodded. "What'd she say?"

"She's got McGee," he swallowed. "She wants me to come alone...your house, Boss."

"You're not goin' alone," he said as he holstered his gun and turned to Ziva.

"She's gonna kill him if I don't," he said, sharing a quick glance with Ziva before Gibbs turned back to face him.

"She's gonna kill you both," he said. "I'm not gonna let that happen."

"As soon as she sees you, she's gonna kill him," he tried to remain calm, but the fear was breaking through. Gibbs glared at him for a moment before turning to walk toward the elevator.

"You go," he told Tony. "Ziva and I will be right behind you. We'll park up the street and walk. She won't see us."

* * *

"You realize you're not gonna get away with this, right?" McGee said from his cuffed position next to the boat skeleton.

"I didn't expect to leave here alive," she told him in a calm voice. "What I _do_ expect, is to avenge my brothers' death. And it's because of _you_ and your partner that I've lost them."

"So you're going to kill us?" he asked, his head cocked slightly by the feeling of disconnection from reality. She laughed.

"I thought about it. That would be too kind," she smiled at him; a devious smile that sent pin-pricks burning through his entire body. "No, what I have planned for you both, will be much more fun."

_"This will be much more fun..." _Brad's voice played in Tim's head.

"Tony had nothing to do with this," Tim argued. "It's my fault all this happened. If you wanna be mad at someone, then be mad at me," his voice cracked at the thought of what she might do.

"Oh, I _am_ mad at you, Tim," she said as she stuck her gun in the front of her pants. She picked up a hand tool and fingered its handle. "And you'll suffer for it. But this time, your partner will watch." She played with the crank on the hand drill. "So many choices down here," she continued. "If you thought the boys did a number on you, just wait until you see what _I_ have in store."

Tim shook...literally his body began to quake at the thought. "Please...it's not too late to stop this..." he pleaded.

"It's been too late for a long time," she said. "The men who accepted my offer, had it much harder then what my brothers dished out. I can guarantee you that much. They'll never be the same," she licked her lips. "Some of them didn't take it very well," she continued, pulling out a knife as she gripped his shirt. He flinched and blinked back tears. "Don't worry," she grinned. "I won't start before he gets here."

The knife sliced through the fabric of his shirt, cutting all the way from the back of the collar to the hem before she slid it open and let it fall forward and get trapped at his cuffed wrists in front of him. "This was Brad's knife," she said as she held it out for him to see. "It's a really good blade; cuts through leather like butter," she went back behind him and grabbed the waistband of his pants, preparing to cut through them as well.

"Please..." his tears fell now. Not just for the sick things she was planning to do, but the fact she'd be showing it to Tony. He'd never come back from this...none of them would. "Just kill me and go."

"Not gonna let that happen," Tony's voice rang as he descended the stairs. Tim and Vanessa both looked up at him. His hands were in the air, in surrender.

"Tony, go!" Tim shouted. Vanessa elbowed him in the chest, hard, and he grunted, slumping down to the floor down along the pole. She pulled out her gun and aimed it at Tony as he attempted to go to him. He'd heard the crack of Tim's rib and knew that it had to hurt like hell.

"You will sit," Vanessa told Tony, and picked up another pair of cuffs, throwing them to him. "And cuff yourself to the chair. I trust you came unarmed?"

"You can search me if you'd like," he said in a steady voice as he complied to her demands.

"I have no interest in frisking you, Agent DiNozzo," she said as she pulled Tim up from the floor. "That will have to wait until I'm finished with Tim."

"You shouldn't have come," Tim looked at Tony with anguished eyes. Tony seemed to come to a realization about what was going to happen, and his eyes darted nervously in front of him.

"Look," he said to Vanessa, but didn't look away from Tim. "Whatever you're planning, just...do it to me. Leave him alone."

"No!" Tim shouted in anger and fear, "You can't do that! That's not what's supposed to happen!"

"None of this is supposed to happen," Tony said to him. "Let me save you from this," his eyes stung.

"No..." Tim shook his head. Vanessa watched the two interact and her mind began to spin with ideas.

"I don't think I've ever had men fight over who gets to be worked over by me, before," she said, a bit of a pout on her lips. "It kinda takes all the fun out of it." She picked up the hand-drill again, fondling it for a moment before her eyes lit up and a grin pasted her face. She set the tool down and turned to them again. "I have...a much better idea," she looked back and forth between the two of them.

It took them a moment to understand what she was implying, and their eyes met in unison terror before they replied.

"I'm not gonna hurt him," Tony said.

"Just let her kill me," Tim told him.

"No," he retorted.

"I know you don't value your life, anymore," Vanessa said against Tim's ear, "But he values yours. And you value his," she holstered her gun and pulled out her knife. "And by the time I'm through with both of you, you'll both wish you were dead," her own voice was broken with personal anguish, and she sliced open the back of his belt.

* * *

"All the windows are blocked off," Ziva said quietly as she met Gibbs around the side of the house. "Can you hear anything?" He shook his head. "What do we do? We should go in..."

"Tony will call," he said. He hoped, rather. "She has to have demands. There's no way she'd get out of here alive otherwise."

"Perhaps that is not part of her plan," Ziva retorted.

"She escaped prison and got all the way here. Found McGee and brought him to a quiet place. She's got a plan, Ziva..."

* * *

"This isn't gonna make what your stepfather did, go away," Tony said. Her head snapped in his direction. Then her mouth turned up at the corners.

"You read my file," she said sweetly. "Funny how...information can be skewed and twisted to work for you," she said as she made her way toward him. "My stepfather was a kind man," she said as she fetched a cuff key from her pocket. "He never laid a finger on me," she loosened one of Tony's cuffs and pulled it open. Then she looked into his eyes. "But the things I did to him...he will never get over," her smile widened even further as she backed away.

Tony cringed inside at her revelation. No one had ruined this woman...she was a psychopath. There was no way to talk their way out of this... "Now get up," she said calmly, "And get yourself ready to fuck your friend."

Vanessa stood there; her knife held out in front of her as she waited for him to stand. Tony swallowed, looking briefly at Tim whose head was now pressed against the pole he was clinging to. Tony thought fast, knowing Vanessa didn't know all of Gibbs' hiding places. He reached under the bench and dislodged the handgun that was taped underneath...

* * *

Gibbs and Ziva heard three shots... and after a split-second of panic, they took off toward the door into the house. Shouting for both agents, they ran toward the basement door; guns drawn and aimed in front of them.

Three shots...that could mean Vanessa had killed both agents, and then herself...

*~.~*

Tony scrambled to pull the cuff key from Vanessa's dead hand. He stumbled back to Tim and stuffed the key into the cuff hole. "Tony..." Tim seemed to be pulled from a state of shock at the sudden appearance of his friend beside him.

"Don't worry, Probie," he said, "I'm gonna get you outta here."

"You're hurt," McGee said as his hands were freed. Tony's side was wet with blood. The dark navy polo clung to his skin. "You've been shot!" Tim surmised. Gibbs and Ziva came quickly down the stairs, surveying the room. "Boss, Tony's been shot!" Tim said.

"'M fine," Tony said. "Just a flesh wound," he said as he held his hand against the wound, but he began to lose his balance, and Tim grabbed his shoulders. Gibbs holstered his weapon and made his way toward them as Ziva confirmed that Andrews was dead. He saw the trail of blood leading away from her body, and the blood that poured from Tony's wound was now seeping into the waist of his pants.

Tony suddenly felt the room spinning, and he dropped to his knees. "Tony!" Tim panicked as he knelt down in front of him.

"Let's get him to the car," Gibbs said. "You hurt, McGee?"

"No...no, I'm fine," he said as he moved to help Tony up.

"You've got a broken rib, Probie," Tony said. "I'm fine. Really, this is nothing...wasn't shot."

"Andrews has three bullet wounds," Ziva said as she worriedly made her way toward them. "There is a bloody knife next to her body."

"Yeah, she threw that at me," Tony said as he allowed himself to be lead to the stairs. "Caught me in the side. Maybe I shoulda left it in?" he laughed a little before he lost his footing. Ziva grabbed what was left of Tim's shirt and brought it to them, placing it over the wound and replacing Tony's hand over it. "Sorry 'bout the mess, Boss," Tony said.

"Just concentrate on not bleedin' to death, and we'll call it even," Gibbs said as they helped him up the stairs and out of the house. "Ziva, drive," he said as he tossed her the keys before getting into the back with Tony and Tim.

"I'm gonna get blood on your seats, Boss," Tony said, his head becoming dizzy and fogged.

"I told you not to bleed to death, DiNozzo," he said, pulling Tony's hand from the wound, as it was barely pressing anymore, and pressed down on the cloth himself. The blood was halfway down his pant leg now; his breath coming in more irregular bursts.

"Trying...not to..." he squeaked. Ziva floored the car down the street and Tony yelped at the jerking motion. Gibbs grabbed hold of him, pulling him back against him firmly. "Di..nt know ya cared, Boss..." his words began to slur as his eyes threatened to drift closed. They noticed he'd begun shivering as well...

"Hey," Gibbs tried to shake him lightly. "Stay awake, Tony," Gibbs looked over at McGee, who seemed horrified at the state of the agent. In fact, Tim was also riddled with overwhelming guilt.

"Tony," Tim took his friend's hand in his, "I'm sorry..."

"No, McGoo...this isn't your fault," he forced his eyes to stay open and put his other hand over his partner's. "Couldn't let...that sick...bitch...hurt you again. I promised you," his jaw chattered.

"Yeah. Thank you for that," he blinked back tears at the thought of what almost happened. "But now I need you to promise you're gonna stay awake, okay?" his voice cracked and betrayed his hopes of seeming unafraid.

"But I'm tired," he shivered again as he relaxed back against Gibbs' shoulder, and his hands loosened from Tim's, leaving them covered with blood.

"We're almost there," he told him, and he cringed as he saw the amount of blood that was now soaking Gibbs' shirt where he held the injured agent against him.

Ziva had called the hospital to alert them of their arrival, and was now on the phone with Vance, telling him what had happened, and that they needed to send someone to Gibbs' house to retrieve the body. By the time the call was over, she was screeching to a halt in the ambulance bay.

Gibbs and McGee scrambled to get Tony from the car as E.R doctors rushed out to assist. Ziva had followed the chaos into the building, leaving Gibbs and Tim standing in the bay. It took Gibbs a moment to recover from his own thoughts, and he turned to McGee, remembering he should be getting checked out as well. But Tim looked lost as he stood there, staring down at his blood-covered hands.

"McGee," Gibbs moved closer, noticing the bruise that began to form on his chest, and the red, swollen marks on his wrists from his struggle against the handcuffs. "Tim," he tried again. Tim's eyes moved slightly, acknowledging he'd heard him. "What happened?" McGee turned his head to look at him, realizing that he'd meant the entire event. He looked down at his hands again, and suddenly feeling naked, wrapped his arms around himself. "Come on, let's get you checked out."

"No," he said, turning around and heading for the car. "I'm fine. Just cold. Do you have a shirt?" Gibbs went to the trunk and opened his emergency overnight bag, tossing a tee to him. "Thanks," he said and pulled it over his head. His gaze fell upon the red-stained upholstery on the back seat. Then he felt Gibbs' hand on his shoulder.

"She sent Tony a letter," Gibbs told him. Tim looked at him. "Said she planned to kill him."

"Because he came to get me," McGee replied. "He tried to find out what happened to me, and she targeted him. And she sent me a letter too," he told him. "But she wasn't planning to kill us, Boss. She was planning to..." he swallowed and looked away from him for a moment. "She wanted us to suffer," he continued.

"She planned to hurt you both?" he urged him to continue. McGee looked at him again.

"She was gonna make _him _hurt _me_," he said with unshed tears in his eyes. "Whatever she could've done, would've gone away eventually. But what she was telling him to do...he wouldn't come back from that, Boss," his voice cracked. "No matter what happened to me, I knew that he'd never be able to let that go. He shouldn't have come..."

"Tim," he took his other shoulder now, making him face forward as he spoke, "It didn't happen, right?" Tim shook his head. "It didn't happen. She's gone now, and she can't hurt either of you anymore." He could see the doubt in McGee's eyes. "Tony's gonna be fine. I promise you that, okay?"

Tim took unexpected comfort from the promise, and Gibbs took his arm, turning him to follow into the hospital. _"Don't make a liar outta me, DiNozzo,"_ he thought.

* * *

McGee scrubbed his hands furiously in the bathroom sink. He shouldn't have waited as long as he did to wash them. But when Ducky and Abby showed up at the hospital, reality had hit him again, and he became painfully aware that it was there.

Anger and frustration caused tears to join the steady stream of hot water on his hands. After everything Tony had been through...after all he'd come through in the past few weeks...to know he could be taken out by Vanessa was humiliating. _"It's my fault...none of this would've happened if it wasn't for me," _he thought. _"None of this would've happened if I hadn't gone to the stupid convention!"_

Tim couldn't hold it back any longer...he watched himself throw a punch at his image in the mirror in front of him. It cracked a bit, but he could still see himself, clearly. He swung again and again, adding a shout of anger to the furious movements that shattered the glass and covered his hand with fresh blood of his own.

He hadn't heard Gibbs come into the bathroom. Didn't know he was there until he felt himself being pulled away from the mirror, and his swings no longer reached the broken reflection. Then his angered cries and struggling redirected at the strong arms that held him. The feeling of being held from behind, bringing flashes of fear in to mix with the brokenness, was immediately sensed by his boss, and he let go of him, turning him to face him before grabbing his wrists to still him.

"McGee!" he yelled, mostly to bring him back to the present.

Through gritted teeth, but a respectful tone, Tim replied, "Please let go of me."

"You done hurting yourself?" he asked before complying. Tim nodded, and Gibbs let go of his wrists, cringing a bit to himself when he recalled the red marks on the agent's wrists. He half-expected Tim to back away from him and hide in a stall, but instead, he stood there in front of him. "You gonna make me ask what that was about?" he said in a calm voice.

Tim ducked his head as his frown grew more fierce, and he shook his head right before he broke down, sobbing..._sobbing_ in front of Gibbs, of all people. Now he knew what Tony had felt like...and the thought of Tony made him cry harder. "I'm sorry," he managed, before drawing in a shaky breath. "This is all my fault...everything..."

"Damnit, Tim," he pulled the agent into an embrace, trying to somehow calm him. "There are just a few things you shouldn't pick up from DiNozzo, and this is one of them. Stop blaming yourself. Andrews was out of her mind. That's not your fault," he gripped the back of the young man's head and soothingly petted him. McGee didn't return the hug, but he seemed to ease into it, leaning into his boss's shoulder as he tried to will himself to stop crying...

* * *

Ducky walked into Tony's recovery room to see the agent already awake after surgery. "Anthony, dear boy," he said as he approached the bed. "So good to see you're doing alright."

"Hey, Ducky," he grinned, obviously still a bit loopy from the anesthesia. "Told them it was just a flesh wound."

"Yes, well, your 'flesh wound' nearly earned you a transfusion," he said as he sat in the chair beside his bed. Tony watched him for a moment, then suddenly recalled the events leading up to where he was now.

"Where's McGee?" he asked.

"Jethro was seeing to it that Timothy be fixed up," he told him. "Ziva came and told us you were awake. So they should be up here shortly, if all goes well for Tim."

"What...did..." Tony stumbled over his words as he tried to replay memories in his mind. Ducky could sense his struggle.

"He's alright, Tony," he reassured him. "Had a bit of a run in with the bathroom mirror, but I believe they said they'd put it on the bill," he gave a small laugh.

"A run in with a mirror?" Tony questioned.

"His fist, to be exact," he explained. "Jethro didn't fill me in with the details, but apparently the poor lad was quite upset with himself."

"Why?" Tony asked.

"You'll have to ask him that, yourself. But I surmise that he blames himself for your injury. Even though no one blames him," he said as he held up a hand before Tony could interject with his own denial of Tim's blame.

"How bad is he hurt?"

"Not as badly as you," he said. "I'm sure he'll just get it wrapped. I didn't see any excessive bleeding."

"Okay. Well, what about me, Duck? How bad off am I?" Ducky smirked at him before grabbing his chart and reading through it.

"As the surgeon told me, the knife didn't hit any vital organs. The biggest worry was loss of blood and shock. But it seems they've patched you up. And as I said earlier, you didn't lose enough blood to need a transfusion."

"Well, that's good... Do I gotta stay here?"

"That much I did discuss with your doctor," Ducky told him. "You don't have to stay. We can bring you back to Jethro's house, if you'd prefer. But only if you promise to take it easy."

* * *

"Crime scene's been cleaned up, Agent Gibbs," Vance said into his phone. "How are your agents? Please tell me Andrews wasn't successful in her attempts."

_"They're both doin' okay, considering," _he replied. _"DiNozzo use up all his sick leave yet?"_

"He's good for whatever he needs. McGee, too."

_"I think they'll be good to go after the weekend. I'll talk to them."_

*~.~*

"House is clear," Gibbs told Ziva after he ended the call.

"I put a blanket over the back seat," she told him. "It will do until we have time to take it to be cleaned." Gibbs nodded. "You are sure that McGee will be okay staying at your house again, after what happened today?"

"The only thing that happened, was the end of a very long nightmare, Ziva. If he's uncomfortable there, he'll tell us."

* * *

"I think this is my favorite injury to date," Tony said as Gibbs put another steak on the agent's plate.

"Because you get to stuff your face?" Ziva smirked.

"Exactly!" he retorted as he cut into the juicy meat. "And between that, the pain killers and this brace thing keeping me from using the surrounding muscles, this is heaven."

"Next time you want a steak," Gibbs said with a smirk of his own, "Just ask. Don't need to get yourself stabbed, to get a good meal."

"Just tryin' to make good out of the situation, Boss," Tony said. Then he looked over through the door that lead to the deck. Tim was sitting out there, facing the yard. "He gonna sit out there all night?" he asked.

"He said he was not hungry," Ziva said. "Abby went to his apartment to take care of a few things. I am sure when she gets back, he will come in." Tony exchanged a silent glance with Ducky before pushing from the table. "What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna go talk to him," he said, carefully standing from his chair. "I'm good," he said when Ziva tried to assist him. He walked to the door, opening it to walk out onto the deck, closing the door quietly behind him. "Hey, Probie," he said as he made his way to the chair beside him.

"Tony, what're you doing up?" McGee twisted toward him.

"I'm okay, man," he said as he carefully sank down into the chair. "Just wondering about you, though."

"I'm okay," he replied, relaxing back onto the chair.

"So what're you doin' hidin' out here?"

"I'm not hiding," he squinted at him, then turned his gaze back out into the yard.

"Gibbs told me what happened in the bathroom at the hospital," Tony said, watching Tim's gaze fall down to his bandaged hand as his brow furrowed. "Kinda surprised me, since I told you in the car that it wasn't your fault."

"Yeah, I know. Just...drop it, okay?"

"I'm not gonna drop it, Tim. It's obvious you're still upset."

"I'm not...Tony, I'm not upset about what happened. It's more about what _could _have happened." Tony was silent for a moment after he pondered Tim's statement.

"I'm sorry..." Tony said quietly. Tim looked over at him.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," his brow furrowed. "You saved me."

"Well, that's what I thought I did."

"You did!"

"Then why are you sitting out here, stewing in what could've happened?"

"I don't know!" he said, his voice cracking. He turned his head away. "I just...can't help thinking how close it came to..."

"Don't say it, Probie," Tony said with narrowed eyes. Tim turned back to face him. "I would never have let that happen."

"See, you think I'm just worried about what it woulda done to _me,_" he said in a low voice. "I know what happens afterward. I don't want _you _to end up like that." Tony looked at him for a long moment.

"Come on," he cracked a smile, "Sex with you can't be _that_ bad, McGee." Tony's response was so bizarre, Tim couldn't hold back the burst of sudden laughter that took him over. And Tony was relieved, because as soon as he'd said it, he'd panicked a little inside. Instead, he joined in the laughter.

"I can't believe you just said that!" McGee exclaimed, still taken hostage by laughing.

"I'm sorry," Tony laughed, "It's the only thing that came to mind," he grabbed his side as he tried desperately to stop laughing.

"Oh geez," McGee saw the struggle in Tony's face and was immediately jarred out of the laughter, and stood from the chair, "You okay?"

"Yeah," Tony sighed as he mentally coaxed himself down from the fit.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm good," his breathing slowed as Tim sat back down. "I don't think I've laughed that hard in a while," he said.

"Me either," McGee grinned as he laid back in the chair. "Thanks for the...uh...compliment," he shook his head with another small laugh. Tony grinned and reached over to pat Tim's arm.

"I think I get why you like it out here, McGoo," he said as he looked up at the clear night sky. After a few silent moments of looking up at the endless expansion, Tim had a thought.

"Everything's gonna be the way it used to be from now on, right?" he asked without looking away from the heavens.

"No," Tony said in a low voice, then glanced at McGee. "I think it's gonna be even better." Tim met his glance for a moment before looking back up at the sky.

Then he smiled...

* * *

fin...

**Okay so I decided to fit it all in one. Since I feel so strongly that this story continue, though, there will definitely be a sequel. But it most definitely will not be what you expect. So if you like it as it is, then don't feel obligated to read the next one ;). Its just a strong thought I felt belonged here, but didnt wanna mess this up with my odd imaginings lol. Anyway, please let me know how you liked/disliked this final installment. I greatly appreciate everyone who stuck through it to the end and always kept me going with your feedback :)**


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